


Never Gonna Give You Up

by Blue_Night



Series: The Adventures of the Roman Legatus Marcus Retus and his Friends [1]
Category: Football RPF, Real Person Fiction, Rome
Genre: AU/Crossover, Action/Adventure, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Ancient Germania, Ancient Rome, Blow Jobs, Description of battles and death, Developing Relationship, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, First Kiss, First Time, Hand Jobs, Hate to Love, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Masturbation, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Promiscuity, Slavery, mentioned attempted suicide
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2017-11-02
Packaged: 2018-03-03 11:08:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 43
Words: 108,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2848706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Night/pseuds/Blue_Night
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The young Legatus Legioni Marcus Retus commands a big and important legion in Mogontiacum in Germania where he has to fight against Teutons, the wild nature and the difficulties that come up one's way when you're far far away from your beloved cultivated Rome. During one of those battles with several Teutons, he makes a remarkable captive, a young man who seems to be an important member of his tribe, the Mattiacer. He's fascinated of the young man and decides to take him to his fortified camp with him. Will he really be able to come closer to him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Captive

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GoForGoals](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoForGoals/gifts).



> I wanted to write about Teutons and Romans for a rather long time and one of my other WIPs in the Stargate Atlantis fandom gave me the final idea to this fic. There will be some description of violence because of the fights and battles and there will also be explicit sexual scenes, so if you don't want to read about the one or the other, you shouldn't read this story! There will also be slavery and promiscuity, but I always write only about consensual sexual encounters, never about rapes or non consensual sex. My heros and characters are always grown ups who know what they want and what they are doing.
> 
> The chapters will be short, too, but hopefully updated at least weekly. Enjoy reading and please, let me know if you like it! Kudos and comments are always much appreciated and very helpful during the sometimes rather hard process of writing a good and interesting WIP.
> 
> I chose to use only Roman names, I tried to make them sound as similiar as possible, but I used names that actually exist instead of creating my own, so they don't match perfectly. I will add the names of the other persons who show up when they do.  
> This story takes its place in the middle of Germany at the frontier between Ancient Germania and the expanded Empire of Rome. The story begins in the year 16 a.c. while Germanicus was the High Commander of all Roman legions in Germania and Tiberius the emperor of Rome.  
> Mogontiacum is the important fortified camp (castellum) where later the German city Mainz was built and Castellum Mattiacorum is a smaller camp at the other side of the river Rhein, the city Mainz-Kastell. The name 'Teuton' is now the general English name for all tribes that lived in ancient Germania and I used it as such, not for the one tribe Teuton that existed in ancient Germany, too. The Romans didn't know the letter 'k', only the 'c', so I replaced every 'k' with 'c'.
> 
> Here are the persons with their Roman names for the better understanding:
> 
> Marco Reus: Marcus Retus, the Roman legatus and military leader of the fortified camp Mogontiacum (Mainz) 
> 
> Erik Durm: Erik the Mattiacer, a Teuton prince
> 
> Mario Götze: Marius Gordianus, Marcus' best friend and his second-in-command, rank: tribunus
> 
> Nuri Sahin: Nurio Santinus, Marcus new first centurion and Marius' future lover
> 
> Mats Hummels: Matteus Honorus
> 
> Sven Bender: Severus Benignus, a young Roman centurion, the twin of Lars, the Chat, father: Horatius Benignus, a Roman tribunus
> 
> Sebastian Kehl: Sebastianus Caelius, the praefectus castrorum of Castellum Mattiacorum (Mainz-Kastell)
> 
> Jürgen Klopp: Albin the Mattiacer, Erik's father
> 
> Matthias Ginter (Matze): Malte the Mattiacer, Erik's best friend and one of Albin's guards
> 
> Jonas Hofmann: Jonas, the Mattiacer, one of Erik's friends
> 
> Patrick Herrmann: Patricius Hermolaus, a young centurio
> 
> Julian Draxler: Julius Demarcus, a young optio (Roman petty officer)
> 
> Lisa Durm: Lioba the Mattiacer, Erik's sister
> 
> Benedikt Höwedes: Benno, the Chat 
> 
> Lars Bender: Lars, the chief of the Chatti, Severus Benignus (Sven Bender's) long missed twin Laetus Benignus. Father: Horatius Benignus, a Roman tribunus.
> 
> Ralf Fährmann: Radolf, the Chat

A lonely bird sang his wistful song sitting in one of the large trees surrounding the clearing and greeting the early spring and the surprising warm sun that peeked out of the white clouds traveling over the clear blue sky like a flock of sheep.  
It wouldn't take long until its cheerful song would be answered by other birds coming back from their yearly journey to the south, searching for a partner to build a nest and raise little birds with like they had done for so many many years by now.

The peace had returned to the clearing and the loud noise of the short but bloody battle had faded. There were still members of the Teuton tribe called 'Mattiacer' who didn't accept the Romans close to their territory and who tried to attack and kill as much of the hated enemies as possible.

Legatus legioni Marcus Retus considered the captive standing in front of him with a defiant look in his astonishing hazel-green eyes and his lips pressed to a thin line. He was still more a boy than a young man, the soft round of his rosy cheeks proving his youth and innocence clearly to Marcus. He was filthy and had several scratches all over his face and his naked arms, but, Marcus could see the beauty underneath all of his defiance, dirt and bruises and he had to suppress the sudden urge to reach out and touch the red mark his own weapon had left upon the smooth pale skin of the young man's shoulder.

“What's your name?” he asked in the unfamiliar guttural language he had learned when he had come to Mogontiacum almost one year ago. Marcus learned other languages easily and he knew that understanding and speaking the languages of the natives could make the difference between life and death if one lived in an unknown country surrounded by lethal enemies. He was very aware of the fact that most of his Roman brothers didn't share his opinion, but that didn't matter to him. His promotion to the rank of a legatus legioni of an important legion in a very young age proved very well that he had always been right with his instincts and uncommon decisions.

The young captive only pressed his lips even more together and remained silent, his eyes shooting amber fire of hate and fury at him. Marcus pursed his lips. He hadn't really expected that the Mattiacer would answer his question. He was the only survivor of the attack, ten Teutons lying in ambush waiting for the right moment to attack twenty Romans. They knew the thick forests of Germania much better than any Roman would ever know them, but this time, the luck had been on the 'wrong' side and Marcus' legionaries had defeated the inexperienced young Teutons very quickly. Nine of them lay dead on the meadow of the clearing, their blood reddening the short green grass growing over the earthy ground announcing the forthcoming spring.

One of them had survived only because the others had defended him with their own lives and Marcus had given the order to capture the young man alive, suspecting that he had to be an important member of his tribe.

Marcus considered his options for another minute, but then, he decided to question his adversary later in the safety of their fortified camp. “Very well, then,” he only said, waving at the centurio who had accompanied him, Severus Benignus.

The centurio made his way to him, circling the dead Teutons lying spread over the clearing. “Your orders, Marcus?” he asked and Marcus jerked his head in the young Teuton's direction. “I want you to take care of him, personally, Severus,” he made clear. “Nothing is to happen to him, I want you to escort him back to Mogontiacum and when you'll arrive at our camp, to take care of his injuries. He also has to bath and to eat. I want to question him and I would be very angry if anything bad happens to him until I come back!”

Severus nodded his head. “Of course, Marcus. You won't come with us right now?” he made sure. Marcus shook his head. “No. I didn't give up my intention to visit castellum mattiacorum. Take nine legionaries with you. I will be back in the early evening.”

Severus frowned. They were friends and Marcus could see the worries on his face. “Do you really think that it would be wise to visit the castellum with only nine soldiers? After we've just been attacked?” the centurio asked, hesitantly.

“Yes, my friend. There won't be another attack, don't worry. Just make sure that you will return with him healthy and uninjured,” Marcus said, his voice firm and determined. Severus nodded again and waved at his men who to follow him with the unknown captive. Two of them took him in the middle and tied him to the saddle of Severus' horse that waited patiently next to Marcus' horse at the edge of the clearing, used to the smell of blood and the noise of swords hammering against other weapons.

Severus' horse was a beautiful fox-colored crossbreed, while Marcus always rode his beloved snow-white Arab, a very vivacious stallion letting only Marcus on his back. Marcus watched Severus preparing everything for their departure, gently stroking the nostrils of his stallion that bent his head, pressing happily into the touch, snorting tenderly as he inhaled deeply the familiar scent of his owner, the only person who had been able to tame him. “Yes, Thunder, you're my good boy,” Marcus praised his Arab in a purring voice, stroking the velvet-like smooth fur of the horse's elegant head.

When he felt the eyes of the young Teuton upon him, he looked up and their eyes locked, amber-green fire meeting blue. Marcus swallowed, feeling a strange connection between the young man and he himself. There was something special about this barbarian that made his heart beat faster and his whole body tingling in anticipation. He had tamed an Arab everybody had said that this horse wasn't to tame at all. He would tame this special Teuton, as well, no matter what he had to do to reach his goal.

The other man swallowed, a strange emotion flickering over his handsome boyish features. Marcus smiled at him and for one tiny moment the lips of the Teuton became softer, just as if he wanted to return the smile. But then, the short moment was gone and the defiant and hateful mask was back in place. Marcus held his gaze until the other lowered his eyes, staring down at his feet and the young Roman suppressed a sigh, suddenly feeling disappointed and exhausted.

Severus mounted his crossbreed and gave the order to leave the place. Marcus took Thunder's reins and guided him in the opposite direction across the clearing , before he mounted him and waved at his legionaries to follow him.

Marcus clicked with his tongue and gently pressed his heels into Thunder's flanks and his stallion willingly began to move, eager to leave the place where the strong smell of blood and death lingered in the cool air.

When he shot a last quick glance back at Severus and the young captive he saw that the Teuton had turned his head to have a final look at him, too. A small smile tugged at the corners of Marcus' mouth as he noticed that the stranger's cheeks blushed slightly because Marcus had caught him looking back at him.

Marcus turned around again and left the clearing without another glance, knowing that he would see the young man soon again. He was looking forward to their next encounter. This hazel-eyed young man had caught his interest and Marcus was determined to solve the mystery of his uncommon captive and come closer to him, much closer. It was only a matter of time.


	2. After A Hard Day's Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcus returns to his camp to question his captive, the remarkable young Teuton. But first, he has to make himself presentable again and to relax after a hard day's work. To his luck, he has his personal slave Rufus who is able to help him with that...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, I want to make something clear: I'm not a friend of slavery. I actually find the thought of a human being being the property of someone else disgusting. But, I'm writing about the ancient world, especially the Romans and slavery belongs to their culture, so I have to write about it if I like it or not. My heros always treat their slaves kind and friendly and more like 'payed servants' than as true slaves. But, there might show up some bad guy who maybe doesn't treat his slaves that way.  
> I also want to make clear that Erik the Mattiacer won't be a slave. He is a hostage and will be imprisoned and maybe even in chains, but Marcus won't make him a slave. I would never write about any real person in a disrespectful manner. The slave Rufus who shows up in this chapter is treated kind and everything he does he does willingly and without being forced to. He is a creation of my own and has no real background.
> 
> It's christmas and so here is another chapter sooner than I planed, enjoy reading it and please, let me know if you like it! It's also a longer one, the next chapters might be shorter again.

Marcus returned to Mogontiacum later than he had expected, because there had been some troubles he had had to see to in Castellum Mattiacorum. The commander of the camp had asked him to speak to his men, because they had been discontented with their current situation: less pay and much longer stay in the hated cold country far away from their beloved Rome and some of them had been close to mutiny.

Marcus had taken his time and talked to every soldier of the smaller castellum. He had ordered the commander of the important camp lying at the other side of the big river Rhenus, the praefectus castrorum Sebastianus Caelius, to put his legionaries together in small groups of ten men and had talked to each group, listening to their complaints and needs, patiently and carefully.

Marcus understood their issues and annoyance quite well, most of them hadn't come here freely like he himself and they were tired and home-sick, longing for the warmth of their beloved city of Rome. They had difficulties to adapt to the cold climate and the primitive standard of living, because the camp was still in a state of building and not finished yet and they missed their families, dearly.

To his luck, Sebastianus was a skilled and great leader and things surely had turned out to be much worse, if it had been another commander. Marcus had been the one to make Sebastianus the praefectus of the camp and he hadn't regretted his decision one single day since then.

Marcus had promised the tired and disappointed legionaries to send more workers to finish the construction works and had agreed to more free-time. He could do nothing about the pay at the moment, he would need to speak to the emperor about this delicate topic and there was no chance for him to leave Germania and travel to Rome during the next months, not with the increased numbers of attacks from the Mattiacer. But, the legionaries had been satisfied with what he had offered them and assured him of their loyalty and honesty before he had left the camp. They would stand behind him like one man and again, Marcus was deeply touched by the admiration and devotion his men always gifted him with. He would do whatever was needed to do to be worthy of them and never betray the trust they put into him.

Marcus dismounted his stallion and Thunder snorted and blew his nostrils as he smelled the familiar various scents of his stable, hay, oil, leather and the strong smell of horse droppings. He scraped with his hoof and suddenly strode forward, eager to reach his box. Marcus almost stumbled, chuckling quietly as Thunder snorted with impatience, dancing with little steps on his hoofs.

“Yes, my good boy, I know that you're hungry. You will get your hay, don't worry love,” He patted his neck and guided his Arab into the box before he took his saddle and the snaffle-bit away, hanging them outside the box over their usual places. Then, he began to groom his horse with long and firm movements, just as Thunder liked to be groomed.

Marcus never let anybody else do it and he never put his own needs before Thunder's. Thunder carried him on his back mile after mile and Marcus would never forget that his beautiful stallion had saved his life more than once. Thunder snorted again, but this time, it was a satisfied snort as he pressed his strong body almost tenderly against Marcus and bent his head down to nibble at the fresh hay the legionary who was on guard duty in the stables this evening had placed into the trough hanging at the front wall of the large box.

Marcus finished his work and ruffled Thunder's mane before he said goodnight to his Arab and left the box to see to his own needs. He needed to bath and to eat before he could question the young Teuton who had refused to get out of his head the entire time since Marcus had left the clearing.

He made his way across the large courtyard between the stables and his own accommodation. Although accommodation probably wasn't the right word to describe the large and impressive villa he resided in with his second, the tribunus laticlavius Marius Gordianus. Marius was not only his second, but also his best friend and they had decided to share the large villa instead of living on their own. They could talk to each other about the issues of the large camp and the last happenings during their meals they normally shared and Marcus enjoyed spending time with Marius drinking wine, playing a game or just talking about their dreams and wishes.

They shared their house-slaves except for the three personal slaves each of them had and it had turned out to be one of the best decisions Marcus had ever made.  
Marius awaited him as Marcus entered the large and impressive hall of their villa, smiling at him and offering a helping hand by taking his dusty coat away. Marius was a few years younger than Marcus and hadn't lost his young and boyish features, although he was a brave and tough officer and knew quite well how to fight. He also was a skilled tactician and Marcus always appreciated his suggestions. Marius could be the one to make the difference during the battle and Marcus always listened to him when he had something to say.

“Hello Marcus, it seems that you had a rough day,” Marius greeted him. Marcus pulled a face. “Oh yes, you could say that. Sebastianus had to avert a mutiny and asked me for help. It took quite some time, but I think, we managed to regain our men's loyalty,” he sighed, suppressing a yawn.

“I'm sure you did, Marcus,” Marius assured him. “What do you plan to do with the new captive?” he asked curiously after handing Marcus' coat to one of the female house-slaves. Marcus shrugged his shoulders in a casual manner, not wanting to let Marius see his mixed and confused feelings.

“I haven't decided yet. I need to talk to him at first. Severus saw to him?” he made sure and Marius nodded. “Yes, he did. The boy refused to speak and to bath and Severus and Matteus had to – hm – convince him to think about it twice before he was willing to at least not object any longer, but he ate and is now held in one of the small chambers without windows and two guards standing before the door. Severus thought that you didn't want him to be in a prison cell?” Marius told him and  
Marcus nodded his head. “That's right. I'm sure that he is an important member of his tribe and I want to keep him close to me. Apart from that, he's not a boy any more,” he remarked with a slight frown.

Marius grinned. “He looks like one. And if I had to guess, then I would say that your interest in him goes deeper than it would be appropriate for him just being an important hostage.”

“I do believe that this nothing of your business!” Marcus snapped, scowling at him before he turned around to go to his personal rooms. He craved to take a bath and wash away the dirt from the long ride. He felt edgy and restless and needed something to calm him down and distract him before he went to see his captive.

Marius followed him. “I told Rufus to prepare everything for your bath. He was deeply worried about your late arrival and needed something to do in the meantime until you would be back.” He didn't seem to mind Marcus his rude behavior, his voice was calm and friendly as he told his superior what he had done.

Marcus let his shoulders slump a little bit, knowing that he didn't need to hide his exhaustion from his best friend. “Thank you for that, Marius. Could you see to me getting something to eat after wards, as well?” he asked him and Marius patted his arm and smiled gently at him.  
“I arranged that after ordering Rufus to prepare your bath, Marcus. It shall be ready when you are. I will leave you alone now. I'm sure that Rufus will be able to relax you a little bit,” he said with friendly mockery, winking with his left eye and Marcus felt himself blushing and punched Marius in his stomach.

“You better shut up now,” he growled, sheepishly and Marius snickered and waved at him before he left the hall in the opposite direction for his own rooms upstairs.

Marcus watched him leave before he turned around to open the door to his rooms. Yes, Rufus tender ministration was exactly what he needed right now before he would be able to deal with the defiant Teuton and he knew that his personal slave would be more than happy to give him what he needed.

 

\---------------------------------------------------------

 

Rufus waited for him in his bathroom, a happy smile spreading out on his delicate features as he saw his master coming into the room. He bowed deeply before him and came closer to undress Marcus.

“Master! It's so good to have you back healthy and uninjured!” he said excitedly while he opened the light armor Marcus had worn and then, the tunic underneath.

A young female slipped into the room, took the dust-stained clothes and disappeared again without saying one single word. Marcus had saved her from a cruel Teuton warlord who had treated her badly because of her muteness and deafness and had given her a new home among his personal slaves. He had named her Antonia and she was as utterly devoted to her new master who treated her with kindness and friendliness as the rest of Marcus' slaves were devoted to him. Her instincts always told her when her services were needed and Marcus shot her a grateful smile before she left the bathroom again. She smiled back and silently closed the door behind her. Marcus had learned how to sign with her and he had shown the signs to his other servants and to his satisfaction it worked quite well. Antonia might be deaf and mute, but she was intelligent, sensitive and a true enrichment for his household.

Now, he focused his attention on the young man waiting for him to step into the large pool. “Rufus, you really shouldn't be that worried all the time,” he said, gently ruffling the dark-red hair that was the reason why Marcus had given him the name Rufus. All of his personal slaves had their own bad stories to tell and when Marcus had saved them, he had decided to rename them for a brand-new start.

Rufus was a young Celt and had been captured by a cruel centurio who had used him as his whipping boy. Rufus had been deeply grateful right from the start and was the best servant Marcus had ever had. He suspected that Rufus was in love with him, but Rufus had never asked for more than Marcus was ready to give and seemed to be happy with his position and state. None of his slaves needed a chain, they all stayed freely and willingly with him, proud to have such a kind master who treated them much better than their own families ever had.

“I'm sorry my master,” Rufus answered bending his head again. “But, when I heard about the attack, I couldn't help but be deeply worried until you came back,” he apologized and Marcus shook his head in both, amusement and resignation. “Of course, Rufus,” he sighed crossing the room to go to the pool.

He sat down at the edge of the pool and let himself glide down until the warm fragrant water surrounded his aching body. He let out a small moan as he allowed himself to relax, closing his eyes and enjoying the sensation of the warmth enclosing him and the eased weight of his sore body, letting himself be carried by the water. Splashing sounds proved to him that Rufus had joined him, taking the soak to wash the dirt away. Then, he felt the tender and talented fingers of Rufus roaming over his body, massaging the foam of the soap into his skin, awakening his lust and desire he had had to suppress since he first had laid his eyes upon the handsome face of the young Teuton. He was the one he truly wanted, but, he couldn't have him right now and so he would take what Rufus always offered so willingly, happily and gratefully.

He moaned as Rufus' clever finger caressed his hardening nipples, adorning them with the smooth foam. Rufus didn't need any further invitation, he pressed closer, knowing exactly what his master wanted him to do right now. He kissed his way down on Marcus' body until his head was just above the water's surface and Marcus lifted himself up a little bit to make it easier for the red-haired man to pleasure him with his mouth.

Rufus looked up at him and Marcus nodded eagerly. His manhood was already rock-hard and aching for this kind of passionate attention. Rufus licked his lips to wet them and took the head of his weeping member in his mouth, covering his teeth with his lips. His tongue swirled around the tip, dipped into the wet slit and Marcus moaned again. He stared at the dark-red hair remembering how the Teuton's hair had shined in the March-sun in an amazing light golden-brown color, with blond strands of the same amber touch as his astonishing hazel-green eyes showed when he was angry.

Marcus frowned and tried to push these disturbing thoughts away, but the image of the beautiful face with the rosy cheeks and the defiant look in the hazel eyes didn't fade. Rufus' head was bobbing up and down on his aching cock now, getting him off in earnest and Marcus moaned and closed his eyes once more, giving in to his desire and his fantasies, imaging that it was another young man who pleasured him so skillfully. He let the sensation of the wet tight warmth and the agile tongue wash over him and it didn't take long until he arched his back and let out a strangled cry as he came hard, pumping his release deep down the young man's throat. It went on and on for ages and when it finally was over, leaving only the soft afterglow of his breathtaking climax, he dropped back against the wall of the pool and let Rufus wash away the last remains of the dirt and the sweat that had covered his body for almost one day.

When he was able to open his eyes again, he smiled at Rufus who watched him, waiting for new orders. “Come here,” Marcus demanded, his voice still husky from his forceful orgasm. Rufus snuggled close to him and Marcus kissed him tenderly on his slightly bruised lips. “Thank you, Rufus,” he said, honestly. “I will reward you later in my bedroom.”

Rufus bent his head. “Your pleasure was reward enough, master,” he assured him, but, Marcus shook his head. “No, it wasn't. I don't like the thought of you being unsatisfied, but unfortunately, I have to see to some important matters first. Now, let us get out of the bath, I need to dress again. Marius is waiting for me and I need something to eat.”

Rufus took Marcus' hand and pressed a kiss full of devotion on the back of it. “Yes, my master.”

He helped Marcus out of the pool to dry him and massage some fragrant oil into his skin. Then, he handed him a fresh tunic and short briefs. Marcus dressed again and looked at the polished silver disk hanging at the wall opposite the pool to take a look at his hairdo. His hair was dark-blond and not like the black curls so many Romans had, but Marcus came after his mother's mother, a beautiful Celtic woman who had won the love of a famous and rich Roman legatus and therefore had blue eyes and blond hair. He styled his hair the usual way with the front hair standing up and nodded to himself.

Now, he would enjoy a delicious meal with Marius, talking about the happenings of the day and after that, he would be ready to face the young Teuton again without making a complete fool of himself.


	3. How To Deal With Defiant Teutons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcus has returned to Mogontiacum and his personal slave Rufus helped him to relax. Now, he wants to have dinner with his second and friend Marius and see the young Teuton. Will he be able to make him cooperate?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here is chapter 3. Marcus meets Erik again. The next chapter will take a while longer, because I have to update 'Dangerous Love' and some other WIPs first. I hope you like the new chapter and have fun reading it. Please, let me know!

Marcus left his bath and crossed the large hall again to enter the central room of the villa where the social life took place, his personal slave Rufus in tow. It was both, a living and a dining room, the comfortable loungers spread across the room inviting to lie down and enjoy a delicious meal, play a game, read a book or simply relax and chat a little bit. Marius awaited him lying on his favorite lounger under the window, already nibbling at some fruits.

Marcus took the recliner next to him and lay down with a relieved grunt. He was used to stay in the saddle for a whole day, but, the day had been exhausting and he had taken several punches during the battle with the young Teutons and every bone in his body seemed to ache in different states of force and pain.

Marius waved at the elder woman who ruled the slaves in the kitchen and soon after his sign, Marcus was spoiled for choice what he should eat first.  
He chose the cross fried chicken and some vegetables because he was tired and knew that he wouldn't sleep well with a heavy meal his stomach would have to digest during the night. He'd rather sleep hungry than to stay awake because he felt sick after a too sumptuous meal.

Marcus was glad that Marius shared his taste in light food, he had never been a friend of the opulent meals other Romans enjoyed during long orgies, thinking that it was a sign of culture and appropriate behavior.

Marius cleaned his hands with the wet cloth his personal slave Abdal handed to him. Abdal was a young Arab Marius had saved when he had been in Arabia two years ago and he adored the young Roman with all he had. He was a beautiful young man with dark eyes and black curls just like Marius liked it. Abdal caught his gaze and bowed before Marcus with a smile and Marcus briefly smiled back. He knew that Abdal would defend him with his life, as well, knowing how much the legatus meant to his beloved and admired master. Rufus would always do the same for Marius and they spent a lot time together all the four of them, playing a game listening to some musicians or even discussing the current political situation.

Marcus wiped his mouth with another cloth Rufus gave him and asked: “Did something happen while I was in castellum mattiacorum?”

Marius shook his head. “Nothing except for the arrival of your captive. Everything went well today, even the training fights. No one became injured or sick and I could do the 'parchment work' you overloaded me with.” Marius scowled at Marcus and Marcus chuckled quietly. “You're my second, my dear Marius. You are supposed to do it for me. Apart from that, you're much better and much much faster with it than I will ever be.”

Marius only grunted and let Abdal refill his mug with the delicious wine again they had gotten a few days ago when another supply convoy had reached Mogontiacum. “I knew that you would say that!” he snorted and Marcus chuckled again and let Rufus fill his mug, too.  
He really needed some support before he would be able to deal with the young Teuton and the wine might help him becoming relaxed enough to face the young man he had desired right at first sight without letting it show.

They finished their meal with friendly teasing and chatting and when Marcus was sated and felt ready for the forthcoming encounter with the young man, he stood up and straightened his shoulders. He smoothed out his tunic, watched by Marius who grinned and winked at him with his right eye.

“You're looking great, Marcus. He surely will be impressed,” he teased his friend gently and Marcus flinched and pulled a face.

“Did I ever tell you that you're impudent and cheeky?” he snapped and Marius burst out laughing.

“Oh, yes you did, my dear Marcus. Countless times. I have gotten used to it somehow, I guess,” he snickered before he became serious again. “Please, be careful, Marcus. He tried to kill you and he obviously hates all Romans. He might be our prisoner, but he's still a threat,” he said, sincerely and a little bit concerned.

Marcus nodded his head. “Of course, Marius. I didn't forget that. I will come to you after wards and tell you about our talk.”

“I would appreciate that, my friend,” Marius agreed with apparent relief in his voice. He stood up, too and left the room with Marcus, turning into the direction of the upper floor again while Marcus crossed the hall and entered the corridor where the quarters for the servants of their high ranking guests were settled. There were several doors at each side of the corridor leading to small rooms without windows and only sparse furniture, a small bed, a table with one chair and a wooden chest for the belongings of the servants.

Two guards stood at each side of one of the doors and one of them unlocked the door for Marcus when he gave them the sign. Marcus took the lamp that had hung on the wall the other guard handed him and waited for the door to open fully. The door opened with a silent creak and Marcus stepped into the rather dark room.

It took him several seconds until his eyes had adapted to the gloomy darkness and he raised his lamp to look at the young Teuton who had sat on the bed.

When he noticed Marcus entering the room he jumped to his feet balling his fists and staring at the young Roman standing in front of him in the doorway with hate and weariness.

Marcus swallowed as he saw the other male for the first time without being covered with dirt and blood. He still had scratches all over his naked upper arms and over his forehead and one of the soft rounded rosy cheeks, but Marcus could see his striking beauty nevertheless.

The astonishing hazel-green eyes shot amber fire at him again and the tension in his body and his balled fists showed that he was ready to attack him at any time, but, there was also a hidden vulnerability and uncertainty Marcus could sense and see underneath the defiant behavior.

The light-brown hair was shining in a soft golden glimmer in the flickering lights of Marcus' lamp and the pursed lips were red and just as full as the lips of a man should be without being too effeminate.

He was simply perfect and Marcus fingers ached to touch and caress him, to make him moan with pleasure and arousal. He wanted the wonderful eyes to look at him with passion and affection instead of hate and anger and he wanted to hear his screams of ecstasy.

Marcus clenched his own fingers – the ones that didn't hold the lamp to keep himself from doing what he craved so badly to do, glad that the wine had done its job and left a slight numbness.

He carefully hung the lamp on the hook at the wall next to the door and crossed his arms before his chest, standing straight and upright with slightly spread legs, being all the impressive legatus of an important large camp and the commander of the legions stationed there.

Severus and Matteus had provided the young Teuton with a clean simple white tunic and sandals after the bath and the short tunic showed the slim, but strong-muscled legs in an appealing way. Marcus was glad that his own tunic was large and wide enough to hide the visible sign of his appreciation to this tempting sight and he forced himself to wear an impassive mask on his own handsome features as he began to speak in the guttural Teuton language:

“Tell me your name, Teuton!” he snarled and the young man lifted his chin and the expression in his eyes became even more defiant as he considered his options and if he should answer the Roman's question or not.

“I want my own clothes back!” he eventually hissed and Marcus blinked, completely taken by surprise. The voice of the young man was as perfect as his face and his well-trained frame, Marcus could hear that despite the hissing and snapping. Warm and dark and surely soft like velvet if the young man decided to purr with ardor and longing instead of hissing and growling.

Marcus considered him for a while thoughtfully, before he nodded his head. “You will get them back when they are clean and dried. Plus, you have to cooperate and tell me what I want to know.”

The face of the young Teuton became grim and dark with the emotions he tried to suppress. “Why bothering about a slave?” he spat out with desperate mockery. “I know that you Romans rename your slaves just how it pleases you. I'm sure that you will find an appropriate _Roman_ name for me!”

For the first time, Marcus could see through the hate and fury and take a look at the frightened lonely boy underneath. His heart ached for the younger one, but he was to wise to let him see his feelings, knowing that his adversary would have taken it as a sign of weakness.

“You're not a slave and you will never be. You're my prisoner and my hostage, the guarantor for the members of your tribe not attacking Romans in the future any more. So tell me your name, Teuton!” he only demanded in the commanding voice that never failed when he used it to put his underlings in their places and the brunette blinked and answered huskily:

“My name is Erik.” He stared at Marcus mistrustfully and confused, but the tension in his body had eased a little bit and he actually seemed to believe Marcus that he didn't want to make him a slave.

Marcus contentedly nodded his head and eventually allowed himself to gift the Mattiacer with a brief smile.

“Hello, Erik, I'm legatus legioni Marcus Retus and I'm pleased to meet you.”


	4. How To Deal With Hated Romans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcus Retus visits Erik in his comfortable prison cell. How will Erik react?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I owe you Erik's POV as well, I guess. I have so much fun writing about my boys in the ancient world! I hope that you will have the same fun reading about them! Please, leave kudos or comments if you like it and tell me your true opinion!
> 
> Dear funfan, thank you for your invaluable help and beta!

Erik stared at the young Roman standing in the doorway smiling at him and the smile was like a punch in Erik's gut. It might have been brief and cautious, but it was still a true smile and it made the Roman's regular and handsome features even more beautiful and stunning. The slightest shadow of a sweet dimple ghosted over his cheek and Erik's throat was dry all of a sudden as if he had eaten sand.

He tried to remind himself of the very important fact that the blonde was his enemy, one of these damn Romans who had captured his beloved sister, taken her away and probably killed her or – even worse - made her a slave to be raped and beaten by some cruel master who considered himself as cultivated and better than the proud Mattiacer whom all Romans considered as barbarians in their arrogance and self-righteousness.

Marcus Retus waited patiently for him to pull himself together again. He seemed to sense his struggles and didn't ask another question, just watched him with attentive eyes and the smile still tugging at the corners of his kissable lips.

Erik blinked. Damn it, what was he thinking of? Had he really lost all his common sense? All he should feel for the other male was hate and anger, the wish to defeat and kill him and most certainly not the wish to _kiss_ him.

Erik drew in a rather shaky breath and let his eyes travel over the strong-muscled frame accentuated perfectly by the simple white tunic similar to the one he had been forced to wear by Marcus's subordinates. Marcus was clever enough to stay in the doorway, making sure that Erik wouldn't be able to break out of his prison cell. It might have turned out as a surprising comfortable prison cell, but it was a prison cell, nonetheless. Marcus posture with the broadly built arms crossed before his chest and the slightly spread legs could have been taken as a sign of arrogance or an attempt to intimidate Erik if it had been another person standing there, but coming from this special Roman, it only mirrored Marcus' natural authority and a self-confidence that had nothing to do with arrogance at all.

Two small golden bracelets enclosed his upper arms, beautiful because of their plainness and the tunic was held with a small belt around his midsection. The legatus wore no other jewelry, neither a ring nor anything else, but Erik had to admit that he didn't need any jewelry to be beautiful or impressive. His simple presence was all he needed to leave Erik stunned and speechless. His hair was rather fair and shimmered as golden as the sun in the warm flickering light of the lamp hanging on the wall and it was very short at his sides and the back of his head, only the hair at the top of his head was longer and styled like a cockscomb.

Erik's gaze traveled further down to the lower regions of Marcus' body and suddenly, he had problems with his breathing. His heart was racing as it had done after their attack this morning and he gulped dryly for air as he took in the sight of the well-trained legs and the elegant feet in the leather-sandals. He inhaled deeply to get some air back into his lungs, but he really should have known better than to do it, because his nose was filled with the other man's scent now, musky, pure male and so so tempting that his mouth watered.

His eyes snapped back at the legatus' face and all he could do was blurting out: “I hate you, Roman!”

The smile deepened and the dimple was clear to see now, even in the rather dark shadow of the doorway where Marcus was still standing in the same posture, relaxed and unmoved. But, Erik knew quite well that he would react within the blink of an eye and be ready for a fight in close combat, should he dare to break out.

“Yeah, I figured,” the Roman drawled with dry amusement in his soft voice. “I didn't mistake your attempts to kill me and my escort as a declaration of love, Erik.”

Erik felt his cheeks burning as he blushed furiously and he didn't know if it was because of his fury, his embarrassment or his suppressed desire. Why must this Roman be so damn perfect and arouse emotions in him he didn't want to feel? He even was able to talk to him in his own language without any mistakes. He had a strong accent, but Erik understood him easily and he didn't know any other Roman who had bothered to learn more than two or three words of his language. Usually, they used captured Teutons they held as their prisoners or slaves for translation.

Erik understood Latin himself and he could communicate in this language, he was the prince of his tribe and would rule his people some day and his mother had convinced his father that it would be wise if he learned the language of their hated enemies. Not that he would admit that to this impudent legatus. Marcus Retus didn't need to know that he could understand what he would say to his subordinates; maybe Erik would find something out what he could use for his escape.

“You'd better killed me when you had had the opportunity! My people will come and rescue me and I will escape from here!” Erik hissed, laying all his despair and hate in his voice to hide his confusion and his fear. He wasn't afraid that the young Roman would punish him, torture him or kill him, no he was afraid, because the blonde had gotten under his skin and aroused feelings in him he didn't want to feel, at least not for the enemy Marcus Retus actually was.

Marcus nodded his head. “I wouldn't expect anything else from them,” he agreed, gently. “After all, you are their prince and they surely will try to rescue you. But, you are mine now, my hostage and if they'll value your life as much as I think they'll do, then they will behave and never attack us again as long as you will enjoy my hospitality.”

Erik roared, blind for anything else than his fury and stormed forward. He bumped into the Roman who caught his fists and held them in an iron grip with his own hands. Their faces were only centimeters away from each other and Erik could see the sparkles of burning desire in the blue eyes Marcus didn't try to hide from him. Their bodies were pressed close to each other, touching in full length in a way that not one thin layer of parchment would have fit in between them and Erik could feel the play of the strong muscles of the other man's abdomen and chest as he pulled him even closer.  
He froze, unable to form one single coherent thought, staring into the hungry eyes with the dark pupils, dilated with Marcus' arousal and feeling the unmistakable sign of his maleness twitching at his own thigh. To add to his embarrassment and humiliation, his own member reacted to Marcus' desire, growing to full size and mirroring the eager little jerks of the Roman's impressive manhood.

“I hate you! I hate you!” he croaked out, trying to free his hands from the iron grip almost desperately.

Marcus' warm breath grazed his flushed cheek as he gently whispered in his ear: “You're repeating yourself, Erik the Mattiacer. I got it the first time and you can be assured that I'll take it seriously. But, you are my hostage and you will stay my guarantor of your tribe's well behavior as long as I want you to. You might not like it, but that's how it is. You can give in and have a comfortable life here, or you can fight me and have a hard time. It's your choice.”

He pushed Erik away and he stumbled back, taken aback by the sudden movement. He watched Marcus turning around and leave the room, leaving the lamp hanging on the wall. “If you need something, water, food, another blanket, you just need to knock on the door. The guards will see to all of your needs, except for your freedom, of course,” he added with a chuckle as he noticed Erik's look.

The door closed behind him and left him alone in the dark with only the unsteady shine of the burning oil in the lamp throwing pictures on the white walls and the bed.

Erik slumped down on it, burying his face in his hands. He felt confused, helpless and aroused and he hated himself for his feelings. How could it be that he desired a Roman, one of his hated enemies? How could it be that he longed to give in to him and lie in his arms after just one day? How could it be that his hate had turned into something else so quickly? What was it that made this one Roman so special and different from the others?

Erik couldn't find the answer as much as he broke his head about this question. The only thing he knew for sure that he had to watch out and try to keep Marcus Retus out of reach from his heart, although he really feared that it was already too late for that.


	5. The New Centurio

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marius never believed in love at first sight. Until he meets the new centurio Nurio Santinus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A happy New Year to all of you, my wonderful readers! Thank you so much for your kudos and your comments! It's great to write stories for you.  
> I hope that you will enjoy the new chapter, as well. It is told from Mario's POV and introduces Nuri Sahin (Nurio Santinus) as the new centurio.
> 
> Enjoy reading it and please, let me know if you like it.
> 
> Dear funfan, thank you for your wonderful and fast beta again!

Marcus was standing beside Marius waiting for the new centurio to ride in the courtyard with his escort. It was Marius’s responsibility to help their new subordinate to settle in in the cold Germania, but Marcus always welcomed every new officer personally.

“Do you know the new centurio well?” he asked curiously and Marcus turned his head and looked at him with a strange unreadable expression in his eyes.

“Yes, briefly. You will like him, my friend,” he answered after a moment of thinking and Marius got the impression that Marcus was amused about something only he knew at the moment. He narrowed his eyes mistrustfully, but Marcus only patted his shoulder. “He will be here, immediately, I already can hear them. Just wait and see.”

The new centurio with the name Nurio Santinus would replace Tellus Antonius who had served for more than twenty-five years and who needed to return to Rome because of the climate. Tellus had been a very good officer, but the cold in Germania had made him sick and Marcus had taken care of his state and sent a request to the High Commander Germanus to replace him. Germanus had agreed and now, Marius stood there and watched their new centurio arrive in Mogontiacum. Tellus had been the 'primus pilus' the centurio with the highest rank of all centurios and Nurio Santinus would take his place and be the primus pilus, as well.

Only Matteus Honorus as the praefectus castrorum stood in between Marius and Nurio. But, Matteus had mostly worked with Marcus himself and Marius was the one who had to deal with the centurios. He had gotten along with Tellus very well and he only could hope that he would get along as well with Nurio as he had with the level-headed and experienced Tellus.

Nurio Santinus was an impressive figure, as he rode with his head held up high in the courtyard on a black Arab, his short red coat slightly blowing after him. Marius found himself gaping at the newcomer, holding his breath.

Nurio Santinus was the most beautiful male being Marius had ever seen. He probably wasn't as tall as other men, more of his own size, although he looked taller as he sat on his proud thoroughbred in a relaxed but straight posture, but Marius didn't have any complaints about the other man's size. He didn't like it when he had to crane his neck to look at his subordinates, it always gave him an awkward feeling.

Nurio Santinus also didn't need to be tall for being impressive. His body was perfect, slim with a broadly built torso and strong-muscled arms and the elegant hands that held the reins made Marius aching to be touched by them.

Nurio had perfect legs, not too big, but also not too slim – just perfect. His skin was still tanned as if the sun had kissed him with its warm kiss. He had thick and slightly curled black hair. He wore it rather short and combed out of his forehead and it suited him perfectly.  
His face reminded Marius of a statuette of the Greek god Apollo he once had seen and now, Nurio turned his head and showed him his face in all its perfection.

Time stood still as they looked each other in the eyes.

Marius lost himself in the endless depths of the velvet-brown eyes surrounded by thick black lashes every women craved to have. He stood there, frozen in place and he knew that there was nothing he could do to stop himself from falling instantly head over heels for the young centurio.

Marius had never believed in love at first sight. He had always laughed when someone had told him that he or she had fallen for another being right at first sight.

He had smirked the previous evening when he had noticed Marcus' behavior and how deep the defiant Teuton prince had gotten under his skin so quickly and easily, thinking that he would never behave like that. But now, he had to face the truth: He was in love. For the first time in his life, he was truly in love and there was no chance that his state would change any time soon

He looked in Nurio's eyes and the young centurio looked back and Marius could see the same longing in the other one's eyes as he felt himself. The Arab stood completely still like a statue made of stone, obeying his rider's orders perfectly. Marius admired the play of muscles he could see as the centurio slightly drew in the reins and he longed to feel those arms wrapped around his own body.

A silent chuckle beside him finally broke the spell and Marius felt the heat creep into his cheeks.

“I knew that you would like him,” Marcus murmured close to his ear, obviously very content with himself.

Marius shot him an annoyed glance. “There's no need to be so smug. You made a fool of yourself, yesterday, too!” he hissed through gritted teeth.

Marcus chuckled again. “I know. But, I can admit it. You on the opposite, were always so proud that this would never happen to you,” he stated, still smug, but with a gentle undertone in his voice.

Marius narrowed his eyes mistrustfully. “Was this the reason why you chose him? To see if I would fall in love at first sight?” he murmured with a growl.

Marcus became serious. “No. I would never do that. I chose him, because he's the best. But, to know that you would – like – him was a nice addition...” he drawled amused. Marius only snorted and watched Nurio dismounting his Arab and giving orders to his escort. They dismounted their crossbreeds and stood beside them, waiting for their next orders.

Marius could see that the young man knew how to deal with his underlings. They apparently admired and loved him as good soldiers should admire and love their commanders, ready to follow them through hell and back if needed.

Nurio handed the reins of his black horse to his second and crossed the short distance before he came to a halt in front of Marcus and Marius.

He saluted and smiled at Marcus. “Legatus, Marcus Retus, centurio Nurio Santinus came as you ordered.”

Marcus smiled back and offered him his hand. “Nurio, nice to see you again.” Nurio took the offered hand and shook it with a firm grip.

Then he turned to Marius and Marcus couldn't hide his satisfied undertone as he introduced Nurio to Marius.

Marius swallowed audibly and offered his hand, as well, much more hesitantly as Marcus had done.

Nurio Santinus took his hand and said. “Tribunus Marius, it's a pleasure to finally meet you!”


	6. A Question Of Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marius met the new centurio Nurio for the first time and fell instantly for him. Marcus leaves them alone now and is on his way back to Erik again to invite him to breakfast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the new chapter, my dear readers. I'm so happy that you like this story so much, although it's a rather uncommon alternate reality. Please, let me know if you like the new chapter, too, kudos and comments are always much appreciated and give me the support I need to keep on writing!

Marcus watched with amusement how Marius and Nurio stared at each other, fascinated and forgetting everything else. It was obvious that the God Eros had hit both of them right into their hearts with his 'love-dart' and that his own presence here wasn't needed any longer. He patted briefly Marius' arm, but the brunette only had eyes for the new centurio and waved him away without even bothering to look at him, mumbling something sounding like “See you later”.

Marcus suppressed his chuckle and turned around to cross the courtyard and go back to their villa again. He had gotten up very early this morning and had had only a quick breakfast. He wanted to see Erik the Mattiacer again and he wanted to spend time with him. When he had left him the previous night, he had been restless and aroused and also confused. Marcus always had been level-headed and reasonable and his deep feelings for the young Teuton had taken him completely by surprise. He didn't know what it was that fascinated him so deeply about the Mattiacer, but he was determined to find it out and come closer to Erik, much closer.

He entered the large hall and crossed it single-minded, heading through the corridor where he would find Erik's comfortable prison-cell. The two guards had been replaced by two other legionaries in the morning and they both smiled at their adored Commander as he appeared in the hallway. They greeted him respectfully and he found kind and encouraging words for them before he gave the order to open the door. The legionary standing next to him obeyed immediately and unlocked the door for Marcus. Marcus steeled himself, pushing his longing back into the depths of his heart and focused on being the strong legatus who wanted to question his hostage.

He stepped into the rather dark room and the young Teuton who had sat in one corner of the small chamber jumped to his feet, ready to fight. He stared at Marcus and the Roman could see his balled fists and the tension in his whole body as he took up position, obviously waiting for Marcus to attack him. The oil in the lamp had burned out and the only light shining into the room came from the corridor. Marcus inwardly groaned about his own stupidity. He should have thought earlier about that. The room had no window and he couldn't let Erik sit in complete darkness all day. He was angry with himself and only hoped that his dense behavior hadn't destroyed the small flame of trust he had seen in the Teuton's eyes yesterday.

Marcus sighed and slightly shook his head. “Erik, calm down, please,” he said. “No one will harm you, I promise you. You are my hostage, but I would prefer to call you my guest and treat you as such.”

Erik's jaw worked as he 'chewed' on these words. “I prefer to be called prisoner! That's the way you treat me!” he finally snapped with a short scornful laughter, his voice raw and filled with hate. “I don't believe your sweet words. You Romans are all liars! I should have known it right from the start that you are no exception from the rule!” he spat out.

Marcus frowned. He crossed the room with four firm steps and came to halt in front of him, only few inches away from his fists' reach. “Look at me and tell me that I'm a liar, Teuton!” he growled, all his understanding and patience gone. Nobody called him a liar. “I wasn't the one who attacked you without warning, lying in ambush. Look me in the eyes and tell me right into my face that I'm a liar or a coward!”

Erik blinked, taken aback by the force of the legatus' anger. He lifted his chin up in a defiant manner and swallowed. Marcus stood far too close to him and his pure male and fresh scent overwhelmed him again. His blue eyes seemed to look straight into his desperate heart and all he could do was staring back, unable to form one single coherent word. He opened his mouth and closed it again, biting his lip.

Marcus' face softened as he saw the Teuton's struggles and he reached out and stroked Erik's heated cheek. “I'm not lying to you, Erik and I will never do. I'm sorry that I left you in darkness with only one lamp and something like this will never happen again, you have my word on that. I told you why you have to stay here, but I'd rather treat you as my guest than as my prisoner. It's your choice. I will give you whatever you want from me except for your freedom.” The Roman did nothing to hide his desire and his feelings and Erik's eyes darkened as he saw the feelings in Marcus' blue eyes.

“And what do you want from me in return? Me serving your lust?” Erik finally whispered and for the first time, his voice sounded truly desperate and he looked utterly defeated.

Marcus gently shook his head. “No, Erik. All I ask from you is your honesty and your trust in me that I will treat you the way I promised you. I would never take you against your will. If you'll come in my bed, then it will be because you really want it.”

“This will never happen!” hissed Erik, but Marcus could see the deep redness coloring his cheeks despite the darkness. He smiled and stroked the heated skin again. “We will see,” he only said with slight amusement. Erik instinctively pressed closer into the touch before he realized what he just had done, pulling away, deeply embarrassed. This time, Marcus didn't laugh, but only purred. “Hm, this was a good start, my beautiful Erik.” His voice was husky with his desire and a small shiver ran visibly down Erik's spine.

Marcus decided not to push him further and stepped back to give Erik some space. “I would like you to join me with breakfast,” he said and Erik blinked, stunned and speechless. “Breakfast?” he stammered. His stomach growled eagerly in anticipation as Erik repeated the word.

This time, Marcus didn't hold back his amused snicker. “Seems that someone is hungry,” he stated. Erik's expression told him that the Mattiacer was torn between his need to eat and his wish to turn the hated Roman's offer down and he waited patiently and curiously for the brunette's answer.

“I'd prefer to eat in my prison-cell,” he eventually said with new defiance in his voice. “I'm sure that you will find someone else to join you.”

Marcus smiled and it was the dangerous smile of the legatus who knew that he was the one being in charge again. “Unfortunately, this isn't an option. I don't like eating alone and right at the moment, I want to enjoy _your_ company. You need to eat and I won't argue with that. But, you can choose if you prefer to be in chains while eating or not.”

Erik's eyes widened in surprise and for one short moment, he forgot his hate and his defiance.

“You would trust me enough to leave me unchained?” he asked incredulously and it was clear that he didn't believe him.

Marcus nodded his head. “Yes. You only have to give me your word that you won't try to break out. You may have attacked me without warning, lying in wait for me behind thick bushes, but you were only ten and so I can understand why you did that. But, you're obviously a prince, meant to be the leader of your tribe some day and I do believe that you know the meaning of the word honor. So, if you give me your word that you won't try to break free, I will treat you as my guest and leave you unchained. If you betray my trust, you will find yourself in chains faster than you will be able to blink. It's your choice.”

Marcus stood there, his arms crossed before his chest in the same relaxed, but cautious posture that showed his natural authority again like he had stood in the doorway the previous evening.

Erik bit his lip and eyed the Roman mistrustfully, but then, he slowly nodded his head. “I give you my word that I won't try to break free, Marcus,” he answered, using Marcus' name for the first time.


	7. A Cautious Convergence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcus invited Erik for breakfast. Will Erik give up his defiant behavior?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is pretty late, so I will make it short: Thank you so much again for the many many hits, your kudos and comments. You're a great audience and it is a pleasure to write stories for you!
> 
> Enjoy reading the new chapter and please, let me know if you liked it!

Erik followed Marcus out of his prison cell and through the corridor until they reached the large hall he had seen after his arrival again. The two guards were following them, as well, reminding Erik of the small but important fact that he might not wear chains, but that he was a prisoner, nonetheless.

Marcus might prefer to call him 'hostage' or even 'guest', but he himself felt like a prisoner. He wasn't allowed to go where he wanted to go, he wasn't allowed to leave this impressive place and that was what made him a prisoner. He had given Marcus his word that he wouldn't try to break free and at the moment, he was determined to keep the word he had given the Roman, but if there would be the opportunity to break free, then, he was also determined to actually use it. He needed his freedom, he needed it to search for his sister. This had also been the reason why Erik had attacked Marcus, he had thought that his sister was held as a prisoner or a slave here in Mogontiacum, but now he knew that he had been wrong. His sister wasn't here and he himself was Marcus Retus' hostage by now. But, he wouldn't give up his attempts to find her or at least what had happened to her. He was the only one who could do that and he would never betray his beloved sister's faith in him, no way, no matter what he had to do to keep his promise and search for her.

Erik pushed these thoughts back in the furthest part of his mind and focused on the young legatus walking in front of him again. He felt drawn in to him in a way he had never felt before. He didn't know what it was that fascinated him so about Marcus Retus but, he was different from what he had any Roman expected to be. He hadn't met many Romans until now, only a few and never a high ranking officer like Marcus, but he had always thought that all Romans were cruel and arrogant.

Marcus was neither cruel, nor arrogant. He was self-confident and level-headed, but also strong and uncompromising if needed be, that much was clear, but he didn't enjoy to torture or hurt a living being, Erik could feel that.

Marcus entered a large and bright living-room and turned around to Erik. He pointed at one of the recliners and smiled at the young Mattiacer. “Please, lie down, Erik.”

To Erik's surprise, it was actually meant as an offer and a request, not as an order, because Marcus only nodded his head in agreement when Erik said: “I would prefer to sit on the ground. I'm not used to lie while eating.”

“Of course, Erik, please excuse me. I should have thought of it.” Marcus took two big comfortable cushions, offering one of it to him. “Would this be appropriate for you?”

Erik took the cushion, totally taken aback. “Yes, thank you,” he stammered, placing the cushion on the floor near the small table standing before a large window leading to a beautiful garden and sat down on it.

Marcus followed his example and sat down opposite him with a natural grace that made Erik swallowing with unexpected and unwelcome desire and want. Marcus crossed his legs in front of him and the tempting sight of his well formed thighs distracted Erik from his hate, anger and his worries.

“I'm pretty pleased that you seem to enjoy this view so much, Erik.” Marcus soft, almost purring voice broke in on his thoughts and he blinked, confused. He felt himself blushing and forced his eyes away from the young Roman.

For a while, he just stared out of the window without actually seeing something until a sound came from the door. A young woman entered the room, carrying a large platter with food. She almost seemed to float over the ground and she was a real beauty. Marcus smiled at the young woman, a tender and caring smile and a sudden sharp sting in his abdomen made Erik gasp.

Marcus turned his head to look at him. “Is everything all right with you, Erik?” he asked, concerned. Erik bit his lip. “Yes, thank you,” he murmured, lowering his eyes. Damn it, how could it be that he was jealous of a slave?  
Marcus looked at him for one more moment, before he raised his head to the young female slave again. She placed the platter on the table and Marcus smiled at her, gratefully and made some signs with his hands. The girl bowed before him and answered with some other signs, before she turned around and headed to the door again.

Marcus took one of the plates filled with fruits, bread and cheese and handed it to Erik. “Please, Erik, you must eat,” he gently ordered. Erik hesitantly reached out for the plate and when their hands touched by accident, he had to suppress a shiver that ran down his spine. He had to face the truth, he desired this Roman, the hated enemy. But, was Marcus really his enemy? Erik swallowed.

“Why do you use signs with your slaves? Aren't they allowed to speak in front of you?” he inquired to distract himself from his unwanted feelings.

Marcus chuckled amused. “No, this is not the reason. She is deaf and mute and she can't hear and speak. But, she is very sensitive and intelligent and I can communicate with her this way.”

Erik stared at Marcus with his mouth hanging open. “You have a slave who is deaf?”

Marcus took the other plate and considered the fruits. “Yes, I saved her from a cruel Teuton warlord. He treated her like shit, using her as his personal 'whipping boy' or better 'whipping girl' because she is deaf and mute and I gave her a new home where she is safe and well,” he replied, before he bit in a red apple with obvious delight.

Erik opened his mouth to protest against this lie, it just couldn't be that a Teuton had done this to another Teuton, but then, he closed his mouth again. He might hate Marcus and consider him as his enemy, but he had to admit that the legatus was not a liar. He could see it in his eyes and he he knew that he had said the truth.

“You might have saved her, but she is still a slave,” he spat out and Marcus smiled again. He didn't seem to mind Erik his rude behavior. “You are right, Erik. But, I made her my personal slave for her own safety. No one touches what's mine and she has a good life. I would never treat her the way she had been treated since she was a little child and her family realized that she is severely handicapped.”

Erik snorted, unimpressed. “But, she has to serve your lust whenever you order her into your bed.”

Marcus chuckled again. “I'm surprised that you are jealous, Erik the Mattiacer, but, I can assure you that there is no need for you to be jealous. I would never force an unwilling partner into my bed, neither a slave, nor an underling, a guest or – a hostage. I wouldn't find it pleasurable to take someone against their will. I prefer to hear their moans of ecstasy, not their cries of pain. Antonia is involved with another house slave. He is a kind young man and they asked for my permission that I gave with delight. He is able to sign and he truly cares for her.”

Erik stared at him and his cheeks were burning again. “I'm not jealous!” he hissed embarrassed.

Marcus nodded his head, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Of course, Erik, if you say so. My mistake. Please, accept my sincerest apologies for having been so wrong,” he said gently and it was clear that he was teasing Erik.

Erik tried to scowl at him, but when he noticed the mischievous smile on the handsome face and the amused sparks in Marcus' beautiful eyes, he couldn't hide his own smile any longer. They looked each other deep in the eyes and for one long moment, time stood still. When Marcus took one of the juicy apples offering it to him, he took it and bit into it. Maybe he had been wrong and Marcus was a man he could trust and respect, he wasn't sure about at the moment, but he was willing to give it a try.

Marcus smiled at him again and then, took another bite from his own apple and they finished their meal in companionable silence.


	8. About Horses And Kisses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marius met Nurio and he fell for him, immediately. But, did Nurio fall for Marius, as well?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is about Mario and Nuri and about their first convergence. I have fun to write about this couple, too and their road might be not as rocky as Erik's and Marco's right at first sight, but they will have their own drama, so it hopefully won't get boring.
> 
> As always enjoy reading it and please, let me know if you liked it. You are a great audience and I love writing for you!

Marius only noticed briefly that Marcus left the courtyard, he was too busy with glancing adoringly at the new primus pilus. Nurio returned his wistful look with a seductive smile and passionate eyes and Marius' heart missed several beats before it started to race as if he had just run for his life.

He stood there, frozen in place and if the sky had fallen down on right now, crushing him, he probably wouldn't even have noticed it. Nurio finally broke the spell when he opened his mouth and said in his dark velvet-like voice: “My horse needs to rest. Do you have a stable here?”

Marius blinked, coarsely woken up from his daydream in which he had felt the soft tempting lips of the young centurio on his own. “Of course, we have a stable,” he stammered, feeling stupid and ridiculous. Nurio's smile deepened and Marius was glad that his tunic was wide enough to hide his arousal. The young centurio didn't take his eyes from him while he whistled and his beautiful Arab stallion obeyed the order instantly and stalked to his owner, pushing his nose into the crook of the centurio's arms with a tender snort.

Marius cleared his throat. “Please, follow me,” he said and he wasn't sure if he meant the human or the horse, but Nurio only smirked and stepped close to Marius, crossing the courtyard side by side with him, holding the reins of his horse loosely in his hand. The Arab snorted again as he smelled the other horses, following his owner with dancing little steps and his head held up high.

“Your stallion is beautiful,” Marius said in an attempt to make polite conversation and Nurio almost beamed at him. Marius had problems with his breathing all of a sudden and it took him a while to remember how to get air back into his lungs. “Thank you, Marius Gordianus,” the centurio purred, his voice sounding like a soft caress as he tasted the sound of Marius' name.

Marius gulped for air and the rest of his blood that had been so merciful to stay in his head and his torso and leave him at least a little bit of his ability to form coherent thoughts until now decided to join the large amount of blood that had already settled in in one special part of his lower body regions and rushed into his groin within the blink of an eye. Marius tried to suppress his groan, but one small strangled sound escaped his lips and Nurio's endless dark-brown eyes looked at him with concern while he briefly touched his arm, burning Marius' skin with that.

“Is everything all right with you, Marius?” he asked and Marius drew in a shaky breath. “Yes, thank you, everything's fine,” he managed to croak out. “Does your Arab has a name?” His voice sounded strange in his own ears, he hadn't known that he sounded that squeaky so far.

The stallion snorted again as if he was offended by Marius' words and Nurio snickered. “Of course, he has a name. His name is Aeolus. He honors his name and truly is as fast as the wind. It's a good name, isn't it?”

“Oh yes, it is indeed a very appropriate and beautiful name.” Marius nodded his head, glad that they had reached the stable. The guard greeted them respectfully and opened the large gate for them.

Marius didn't miss the curious and admiring glance the legionary shot at the new centurio and a sharp sting of jealousy let him gasp for air. _'He's mine!'_ he wanted to scream, but he pulled himself together forcefully, only glaring at the cheeky underling who lowered his eyes in subdued manner.

Nurio ignored Marius' annoyance and greeted the guard friendly before he led his Arab through the gate and Marius followed to show him the boxes. When they passed Thunder's box, the white Arab came to them, finding the scent of the other stallion, neighing quietly. Aeolus responded with another friendly neigh and Nurio stopped to admire the beauty of the snow white stallion.

“You are a beauty,” he purred, reaching out with his hand carefully, letting the Arab finding his scent. Marius bit his lip. “He is Marcus' stallion,” he said hoarsely as he saw Nurio's adoring glance. It was simply ridiculous, but he was actually jealous of a horse. He wanted to be the only one who let Nurio purr. He swallowed and turned away to hide his feelings. When he suddenly felt a hand on his arm, he hesitantly looked up again.

Nurio's heated look caressed his face. “Would you mind showing me the box where I can leave Aeolus?” he said and his voice was purring again.

“Of course.” He nodded his head and opened the empty box next to Thunder. “Aeolus can stay here. It seems that Thunder and your Arab will get along with each other very well.”

Nurio smiled. “Aeolus will do what I tell him to do. I don't want to annoy the legatus and risk that he'll send me away. I want to stay here, close to you, Marius Gordianus.”

Marius felt a hot shiver run down his spine and his still painful hard manhood twitched happily by these words. “Is that so?” he ground out and Nurio seriously nodded his head. “There is no other place where I'd rather be then here,” he confessed, taking the saddle and the snaffle-bit from his stallion, to place them outside the box on their places.

Marius stood in the box near the entrance and was completely taken by surprise as Nurio suddenly shoved him against the wall, invading his space. Marius was trapped between the box-wall and Nurios well-trained body now, but he had no complaints about that. Nurio braced his hands against the wall at each side of his head and locked eyes with him.

“I will show you how much I love it to be here – close to you, Marius,” he whispered in his ear, his breath ghosting over Marius' flushed cheek. Marius lifted his chin a little bit and instinctively closed his eyes. He heard Nurio's silent breathless chuckle and the warm air on his skin made him shiver.

“I will kiss you now, Marius Gordianus,” he stated and Marius swallowed audibly. “Yes, do it,” he murmured encouragingly. Nurio's body radiated so much heat that Marius felt as if he was burning and his tempting male scent filled his nose and every cell of his trembling body.  
He felt as if he would melt the very next second and then, Nurio touched his lips with his own. Marius moaned with the sensation of the smooth and warm mouth pressing tenderly against his own, teasingly and curiously.

Marius' arms slipped around Nurio's slim waist and he pulled the other man close to his aching body, searching for friction. Nurio wrapped his right arm around his shoulders and his left arm around Marius' midsection with his hand on Marius' backside, pressing it against his groin. Marius whimpered with need as their erections touched through the garment of their tunics and Nurio took advantage of his slightly opened mouth and let his tongue glide into the sweet cavern of his mouth inviting Marius' tongue to dance with his own.

And Marius did. He returned the kiss like someone dying of thirst, clinging to the centurio's body and losing himself in his closeness and the incredible kiss. Nurio really knew how to kiss, he licked and nibbled, pressed, caressed and stroked until Marius' head was spinning and he felt dizzy with lust and need. He desperately tried to rub his groin against Nurio's groin, but Nurio dug his nails in his butt and kept him from doing so.  
“Oh no, tribunus, you won't do that. I want our first time to be special and perfect and not to be a short and quick brief encounter. You will have to wait for a while longer until you'll get your release,” Nurio chuckled at his lips before he kissed him again.

Marius groaned with frustration, but Nurio's hungry mouth swallowed the needy sound and silenced any other attempt to protest. All Marius could do was to give in and let the young centurio claim his mouth, his lips becoming bruised and swollen from the passionate onslaught of his senses. Marius savored their first kiss to the fullest, knowing that there would be much more kisses in the future and hopefully even more than kisses.

He forgot everything else while he stood there in the box, the world outside, his duties and the permanent threat because of the Teutons and kissed Nurio back with all he had, his passion, his longing and his love.


	9. Prejudices, Lessons And Fights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik had breakfast with Marcus. What will follow after wards?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is about Erik and Marco again and about Erik's struggles to settle in in his new life. 
> 
> I hope that you have fun reading it and I want to say thank you again, you're wonderful and it's a pleasure to write for you! Thank you for all of your comments and kudos, your support is great!

They finished their meal in peaceful silence and Marco was relieved that Erik seemed to hate him at least a little less than he had hated him the previous day. He wasn't that naïve to believe that the young Mattiacer had given up his thoughts about escaping from this place, but right at the moment, he seemed to be as content as he could be under these circumstances and enjoy the delicious food.

Erik might be prince of his tribe, but, it was apparent that his life was much harder than the life of a Roman prince would ever be and he surely had never seen the luxury he had found here in Marcus' villa.

“Are you finished?” he asked when Erik pushed his plate aside, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He smirked, handing a wet cloth to the brunette. “Try this,” he suggested with a hidden smile and Erik blushed and took the cloth to wipe his mouth again. “Thank you,” he mumbled, slightly embarrassed. He laid the cloth on his plate, mirroring what Marcus had done. “Yes, I'm finished,” he then added, not willing to praise the delicious meal, but Marcus could see that he had enjoyed it, even though he was too stubborn to admit it out loud.

Marcus stood up with natural grace and jerked his head in the direction of the door. “Come with me,” he ordered and Erik hesitantly got up to his feet, as well. “What do you want to do with me?” the Mattiacer asked suspiciously and Marcus pursed his lips with dry amusement. “With you? Nothing at the moment. I have to see to my duties and I want you to be within sight. So, you will follow me today wherever I'll go,” he stated and Erik's tempting lips instantly became a thin annoyed line while the young Teuton eyed the Roman disbelievingly.

“Duties? Work? Don't tell me that you do that yourself! You have slaves and underlings for your 'work' and your duties! I know you damn Romans! You let others do your work while you're only interested in orgies and your selfish pleasures!” Erik spat out. Marcus crossed his arms before his chest and considered him for a few seconds with an unreadable expression on his handsome features. When he finally stepped closer, invading Erik's space, the young man lifted his chin up with defiance, holding his ground, but he couldn't hide his slight wince as Marcus reached out with his hand. It was obvious that he expected to be beaten because of his impudent behavior.

Marcus let his fingers glide over the stubbly cheek, shaking his head thoughtfully. “So much hate and defiance, so much mistrust, Erik. You have a lot to learn about 'us Romans'. Do you really believe that I would be the Commander of this very important fortified camp if I would only party all the time? Honestly, do I look like someone who is only interested in guzzling food all day long?” he inquired and his voice didn't sound angry or annoyed, only curious and bewildered.

Erik didn't answer, but he lowered his head and actually seemed to be ashamed of his outburst. Marcus sighed, letting his hand drop down at his side again. “Come. I'll have to do some parchment work and to talk to one of my subordinates before I can see to some 'more pleasurable' things.” He pointed at the door again and Erik obeyed without protest and crossed the room heading to the exit with fast steps. Marcus followed him and guided him to his office where he usually saw to his parchment work. It was a friendly room with a large window and two comfortable recliners opposite the desk at one of the walls.

“Sit down on the recliner,” Marcus ordered him and Erik obeyed silently, but the defiant mask was back in place again. Marcus smirked and went to his desk to take something placed upon it. He handed it to the Teuton together with slate-pencil. Erik considered the wax tablet. “What am I supposed to do with these things?” he asked, sounding rather puzzled. “I can't write or read.”

Marcus smiled. “I will teach you,” he said. Erik bit his lip avoiding the Roman's eyes. “I've never learned Latin, so you can't teach me how to write or read your language.”

Marcus chuckled quietly, shaking his head. “You apparently have a very low opinion of me. Do you really expect me to believe that? Sorry, but I'm not that dense. Erik, Erik, I'm truly disappointed now. Of course, I noticed the way you listened to us when I spoke to Severus on the clearing, although you tried hard to make a stupid face. You understood every single word. I'm not the legatus of this castellum in that young age for nothing. Stop kidding me and lying to me. I can see it when you try and I have to tell you that you're a bad liar.”

Erik stared at Marcus, stunned and speechless. “You know that I'm able to understand and speak your language? Why bothering to talk to me in my language, then?” he asked disbelievingly.

Marcus expression softened. “Because you are all alone here, trapped and unhappy. The least thing I can do is to talk to you in your mother tongue to make you feel a little bit more comfortable.”

“You could set me free and let me go if you actually cared about my well-being!” Erik snapped and Marcus smiled sympathetically. “You know that this is the only thing I can't do and you also know quite well the reason for it. I'll give you everything you want except for your freedom and I've already told you that before. So please, tell me, do you want me to teach you writing and reading?” he asked gently and after one long moment, Erik nodded his head. “Yes, but, you told me that you have 'parchment work' to do.”

Marcus nodded his head. “Yes, I'll do it while you're practicing the letters I'll show you now.” He took the pencil and gently placed it in Erik's hand, covering the cold fingers with his own. Erik shot him a suspicious look, but, when Marcus smiled at him, he relaxed and listened to his instructions and it didn't take long until the young Teuton was totally drawn in by the new ability Marcus taught him.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------

 

Erik sat on a large bench at one side of the courtyard, watching Marcus fight with his second-in-command Marius Gordianus. Marcus personal slave Rufus sat beside him and two guards stood behind the bench, because the young legatus might call him his 'guest', but he was mistrustfully enough not to let him sit there unguarded with weapons within his reach. This time, Erik didn't mind him his behavior, he actually would have been disappointed if Marcus Retus had behaved that stupid.

His hand hurt a little bit from the unfamiliar activity he had explored for the first time and he shook it and clenched and stretched his fingers, massaging them with his other hand, but it had been truly satisfying and Erik was glad and grateful that Marcus had given him the opportunity to learn something new instead of letting him sit there staring holes in the wall.

Marcus had taught him how to write the letters of their names and had let him practicing it while he finally had done his hated parchment work and Erik had carved the letters in the wax again and again, fascinated and eagerly, forgetting his hate, his anger and everything else. Marcus was a surprisingly skilled and very patient teacher, he had shown him how to hold the pencil several times, guided his hand and answered all of Erik's questions in a way that it had been easy for Erik to understand him and follow his instructions.

Later, while he had been busied with his own writing, Erik had looked up from time to time and watched Marcus write with elegant movements on his parchment, secretly admiring his grace and handsome male beauty. It was so hard to hate and loathe him and Erik had to struggle hard to keep his hate and loath alive. He didn't know if Marcus had noticed his admiring glances, he had focused on his work only except for one time when he had looked up, as well, gifting Erik with a brief smile that had made his heart missing a beat.

And now he sat there, stunned and speechless again, because Marcus was probably the best fighter Erik had ever seen. He whirled across the large courtyard with the other Roman, their wooden swords making clattering sounds and Erik had to concentrate hard to follow his movements. Marcus almost seemed to fly through the air and the fight looked more like a beautiful dance than a true fight.  
Erik had never ever seen someone fight with such grace and skills and it was obvious that Marcus enjoyed this training fight, a lot. Marcus Retus wasn't one of those Romans who let others fight for them, that much was clear now and Erik couldn't take his eyes from the sight in front of him.

The other Roman was a great fighter, too, but Erik had only eyes for the young legatus and he couldn't deny the truth any longer. Marcus Retus was not the lazy weak and unworthy hated enemy Erik had wanted him to be and he had to face the truth that he desired this astonishing and remarkable Roman more than he had thought it possible. He desired him and he longed to lie in his arms, to touch him and to be as close to him as two beings only could be.

A wistful sigh next to him caused him to turn his head and what he saw made his fingers curl into fists and his anger rise again. The red-haired personal slave Rufus watched his master fight with so much adoration and love on his face that Erik had to bite his lip to keep himself from groaning. The sharp sting of jealousy hit him like a hammer and made his stomach hurt. The other man seemed to have noticed his reaction, because his eyes grazed him for one second, before they traveled back to his master again, but the young slave didn't say anything.

Erik took several deep breaths to calm himself down and looked back at the Roman Commander who had stopped fighting and now wrapped his arm around his second's shoulder, obviously praising his fighting skills. Erik swallowed as he remembered how Marcus had praised his attempts to write the letters of his name only one hour ago and how ridculously happy he had felt as he had been praised by the legatus.

The two friends made their way to the bench where Erik and Rufus were sitting and the second's eyes lit up as they caught the gaze of someone standing behind Erik. When he turned around he saw a young centurio with black wavy hair leaning against the wall of the stable behind the bench, showing all of his pearl white teeth as he smiled widely at the brown-haired Roman.

Marcus patted the brunette's shoulder and chuckled as his friend mumbled something that probably could be taken as a goodbye before he headed to the centurio, watching them leave with amused contentment in his blue eyes, before he gazed at Erik. “I hope that I could prove to you that I truly earned my position, Erik the Mattiacer,” he said with a hidden smirk. “I would be very sad if you still believed that I'm only interested in orgies.”

Erik lowered his eyes. “No, I don't think that you're only interested in parties any longer,” he mumbled, expecting Marcus to laugh again. But, the Roman surprised him again, as he gently lifted his chin up to look him in the eyes. “I'm glad to hear that I was able to make you change your mind,” he said sincerely. Then, he turned his head to smile at his personal slave.

“Rufus, please prepare a bath for me. I want to wash the sweat and the dirt from my body,” he asked him.

The slave who had stood up as Marcus had come to them, bowed before his master. “Of course, my master, I'll hurry!” He turned around and headed to the villa and Marcus let out a content sigh, circling his shoulders to ease the tension from the fight and looked at Erik with a strange expression in his eyes. “You will join me, Erik. I want you to take a bath with me.”


	10. The Roman Way Of Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcus ordered Erik to take a bath with him. How will Erik react to this order and what will happen there in the bath?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had fun writing this chapter, it almost wrote itself. Hoepfully, you will enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
> 
> Have fun with Marco's and Erik's courting dance!

For one moment, Erik just stared at the Roman legatus, shocked and frightened. “Is this your way of forcing me into your bed? Is this your way of keeping your 'promise' that you won't take me against my will?” he finally managed to rasp, jumping to his feet and falling back before Marcus until the wall of the stable stopped his staggering movements.

Marcus didn't move, only watched him with this strange expression in his eyes, his broadly built arms crossed before his chest covered by the now rather dusty tunic underneath the light armor Marcus had worn during the training fight.

“Believe me, Erik the Mattiacer, if I actually wanted to have you in my _bed_ , then I wouldn't have to force you, at all,” he stated dryly, shooting a brief knowing glance at the visible bulge underneath Erik's own still snow white tunic. “Your mind might scream 'no', but your heart and your body scream 'yes'. You desire me and I already told you that you are a bad liar, so don't even try to deny this important truth. But, of course, this isn't my way of forcing you into my bed. This is my way of 'forcing' you getting used to our Roman way of life, especially the hygienic standards. You might be a prince of your tribe, but, your tribe lives among your house animals like pigs, goats and hens, you even keep them in your houses and I don't want to have to endure your strong smell the entire time.”

Erik blushed furiously, balling his fists. “Your damn subordinates forced me to bathe the previous day!” he snapped, deeply embarrassed as he remembered the unpleasant experience of his clothes having been ripped from his body while he had struggled and fought desperately. Severus and Matteus had thrown him into the pool and Erik had thought that he would drown the very next second.

“Yes, I know. But, you were sweating through the day and you wiped your mouth with your hands several times. Not to mention that you wiped your hands on your thighs to get rid of the sweat and the wax on your hands,” Marcus remarked with a hidden smirk on his handsome features, letting the young Teuton know that he had watched him very attentively the whole day. “Apart from that, I told you that you would follow me wherever I'll go today and I'll go take a bath right now, so you will follow me and bathe, as well. There's nothing to debate about it.” He added in a determined voice and the look in his eyes told Erik that he wouldn't have any other choice than to obey. Eric pressed his lips to a thin line and drew in a shaky breath.

Marcus' face softened as he noticed the other one's distress. “You don't have to fear that I shall try to rape you or do something against your will. If anything will happen, then only because you wanted it to happen, Erik. You're only supposed to take a bath with me.”

Erik snorted. “You will have to wait a very, very long time for this to ever happen!” he hissed, but with only little emphasis in his shaky voice.

Marcus' smirk deepened. “If you say so, Mattiacer,” he answered, bowing his head in a slightly mocking way. “Come on. You might feel comfortable with all the sweat and dirt covering your body, but I don't and I want to cleanup now.”

Erik hesitantly stepped to him and followed him to the large villa, with his hands still clenched into tight fists. How was he supposed to survive a bath with the young Roman he hated and desired so much at the same time?

 

\---------------------------------------------------

 

Rufus had prepared everything just the way Marcus liked it. He was waiting for his master as Marcus entered the bathroom with the reluctant young Teuton in tow. He bowed before the Roman Commander and helped him out of his armor and his tunic. “Thank you, Rufus,” Marcus said with a smile, undressing his briefs himself.

He felt Erik's eyes upon him as he crossed the distance to the pool, felt them upon his half-hard manhood like a soft caress. He wasn't embarrassed or ashamed of the visible sign of his desire because he knew that Erik desired him, as well and Rufus was his personal slave and had seen him in his most vulnerable moments without ever feeling anything else than love and devotion for him. “Rufus, please, help Erik to undress. It seems that he doesn't know that we'd never take a bath still dressed with our dirty clothes,” he said over his shoulder and a strangled offended cry made its way to his ears. Marcus snickered silently and sat down on the edge of the pool, gliding into the wonderful fragrant warmth of the water. He groaned with exaltation as the heat eased the pain and the cramps in his back, caused by the intense training fight, almost instantly and he closed his eyes for one moment, savoring the delicious feeling of being warm, clean and relaxed to the fullest.

A loud noise made him flinch and he opened his eyes again. Erik had shoved Rufus out of his way and the young Celt, completely taken by surprise, had fallen down on the ground, staring bewildered at the Teuton looming over him with balled fists. Marcus was out of the pool and by Rufus' side within the blink of an eye.

He helped the red-haired man up to his feet and scowled at Erik, furiously. “Get. Out. Of. Your. Clothes. And. Into. The. Pool. Now!!” he said in his most dangerous low voice and Erik paled and obeyed without any protest. Marcus turned to Rufus again, ignoring the Mattiacer, but the sounds of rustling clothes and silently splashing water proved to him that Erik did as he had been told.

“Is everything okay, Rufus? Did he hurt you?” he asked gently and Rufus smiled at him, shaking his head. “No, master, please, don't worry about me. I was just surprised.” Rufus actually had become a damn good fighter since he served the young legatus. Marcus had trained him personally, because he wanted his slaves to be able to defend themselves if necessary. Marcus briefly caressed his cheek. “Please, wait outside for my call, Rufus,” he asked him and Rufus pressed his face into the touch for one tiny moment and smiled at Marcus. “Of course, my master, as you wish. Please, he's just confused and frightened because of his strong feelings for you,” he whispered.

Marcus nodded. “I know, Rufus, I won't harm him, don't worry. But, he has to learn that you are mine and that he isn't allowed to do something like this to any of my charges,” he assured him and Rufus bowed again and left the bathroom to wait outside for his master's call.

Marcus sighed and made his way back to the pool again. He slid into the warm water again, but this time, it didn't help against the tension he felt. Erik was waiting for him in the pool, pressed close to the edge, his fingers digging into the marble tiles of the bathroom floor.

Marcus leaned against the wall of the pool, watching him with narrowed eyes. “You will never ever attack one of my personal slaves again, understood?” he growled and Erik nodded his head with something akin to real mortal fear in his eyes. “Yes, I promise you,” he only managed to croak out, his knuckles turning white with his effort.

It took Marcus a rather long time to realize that Erik was close to a panic attack and even longer to realize why he was so frightened, because he hadn't done anything to scare him so much.

“You cannot swim,” he finally stated as realization sank in, staring puzzled at the young Teuton. Erik clung desperately to the edge of the pool, but he had a hard time because his wet fingers threatened to slip from the tiles every time he loosened his grip. Marcus waded through the water to him. The pool was not only meant for taking a bath, but also as a swimming pool, because Marcus and Marius loved to swim and it was rather deep. Marcus could stand in the pool and still breathe, but he understood that someone who had never learned how to swim was scared to death in the large pool.

He gently and cautiously wrapped his arms around Erik's waist and held him tight, ready to react if Erik actually had a panic attack. Erik relaxed gratefully, almost melting against Marcus' strong body. He buried his face in the crook of Marcus' neck, trying to get his breathing back under control.

“Hush, everything's fine. I got you, nothing will happen,” Marcus murmured in his ear, stroking his damp hair with soft regular movements like he would stroke a tomcat to calm him down. He pulled him closer and when he felt the young Teuton's naked body pressed close to his own for the very first time, his strong desire took his breath away.

Erik moaned softly, the sound muffled by the skin of Marcus' neck and he instinctively snuggled closer and bucked his hips up to rub his hard cock that had hardened again because of their closeness and despite the fear he had felt against Marcus' thigh. Marcus' other hand glided down on Erik's back until it reached his perfectly rounded butt, kneading it tenderly and Erik moaned again, a needy sound deep in his throat. He turned his head just when Marcus did the same and their lips met almost by accident. The second Marcus' lips touched Erik's mouth he knew that he was totally lost.

Nothing had ever felt as good as the feeling of Erik's soft lips pressed on his own and he knew that he would forever remember the very first moment of their very first kiss.

He took control of the kiss, licking with the tip of his tongue over Erik's smooth bottom lip until Erik opened his mouth to let him in. Now, it was his turn to moan and he allowed the sound to leave his throat and tickle Erik's mouth with its vibrations.  
Erik sighed and wrapped his arms around Marcus' neck as if the young Roman were his life-line, clinging to him as he had clung to the tiles, meeting Marcus' curious tongue shyly with his own. Marcus began a playful duel, inviting Erik's tongue to take up the challenge and fight a tender battle with his own tongue, to explore his mouth just the way he explored Erik's. Erik responded instantly to the invitation, kissing the Roman back with all he had and the frantic movements of his hips became more erratic with his growing passion.  
His soft whiny moans were swallowed by the deep passionate kiss and Marcus eventually couldn't resist any longer. His hand moved away from the Mattiacer's backside to his groin and then, he slowly wrapped his fingers around the rock-hard shaft of Erik's large erection. His tongue imitated the act of making love while he moved his hand up and down on Erik's member in the same rhythm and Erik cried out in their kiss, his nails digging almost painfully in Marcus' shoulder-blades. The brunette's aroused dick twitched helplessly in Marcus' tender fingers, eager to get the release the young man needed so badly.

Marcus paused for one tiny moment and shifted his weight, so he could stroke the younger one better and Eric cried out again, crazy with need and lust. “Don't stop, please, don't stop, I'm... I'm so...” he begged and Marcus soothed him with another ardent kiss. “Hush, don't worry. I'll give you what you need,” he whispered at his lips before his tongue slipped into the sweet cavern of Erik's mouth again.  
He tightened the grip around the Teuton's weeping erection and stroked him more firmly, getting him off in earnest now. He wanted Erik to come, he wanted to feel and hear his ecstasy so badly that it was almost hurting. He held him close and safe over the water surface with his other arm, but, Erik had forgotten his fear completely, all he could think of was his burning desire and the sweet and passionate kisses they shared.

Marcus stopped the movements of his hand again as he sensed Erik getting very close to his orgasm and Erik moaned with impatience and disappointment, bucking his hips against Marcus' abdomen to make him move again. Marcus own rock-hard arousal rubbed against Erik's hipbone and he bit back his own needy cry and suppressed a heavy shiver. This time, it would be only about Erik, he would get his reward later when Erik had learned to trust him and to enjoy it to be with him.  
Marcus was pretty sure that the Mattiacer would regret their encounter in the bath soon after he would have come back to his senses again, and he also didn't want to take advantage of his state caused by his fear of drowning in the deep water and his confusion about his captivity.

He chuckled tenderly as Erik gasped for air, digging his nails into his back once more and he used all of his skills as he started to massage him again, knowing exactly where he had to press and to stroke to let Erik explore the best orgasm he had ever had. The hand holding him in place moved lower and just when Erik began to tremble, poised at the edge of a forceful climax, his finger slipped between the cheeks of his backside and pressed against his puckered entrance while the hand holding his twitching cock jerked him off two more times. Eric threw his head back and screamed out loudly, and his hoarse cry of complete ecstasy told Marcus everything he needed to know. Marcus watched him closely as he stroked him through the throes of passion, enjoying the lust and pleasure he could see on his beautiful face, while the young Teuton pumped his release in fast and hot jets into his fingers again and again. It went on and on for ages and Marcus kept caressing him until he had milked the very last drop from him and Erik's impressive manhood finally softened, spent and sated.

Erik flopped against him, dazed and dizzy, almost unconscious because of this truly wonderful experience. Marcus made short work of washing him, knowing that he himself would need to bathe again, later, after he had seen to his own needs. Erik obeyed his gentle orders to turn and move and then, Marcus helped him out of the pool and wrapped a towel around his waist.

“Erik?” he asked, stroking his cheek. Erik blinked, smiling dreamily. “Hm?” Was all that came out of his mouth, his lips bruised and swollen from the passionate onslaught of their kisses. Marcus smiled back. “I'll call Rufus, he will help you getting ready for dinner. You will do what he tells you to do, because he knows exactly what I expect, understood? You won't attack him and you won't try to hurt him! Give me your word!”

Erik blinked again. “I give you my word,” he finally said, bewildered. “But, what are you doing?” he asked and it was obvious that the young man didn't want to be left alone.

Marcus suppressed a frustrated sigh. Erik apparently didn't know what he was doing to him when he was looking at him like this. “I'll be back, soon, I promise you. Rufus will be here in a minute and you are safe with him. There are guards outside, so don't you even think of trying to break free, understood?”

Erik nodded his head, still dazed and trapped in the afterglow of his incredible climax. “I will do what Rufus tells me to do,” he promised before he paused and then added in a whispering voice: “Please, be back, soon.”

Marcus kissed him on his forehead. “I will, Erik, I promise you that, too.” He stood up and headed to a small door leading to another room, followed by Erik's wistful glance.


	11. About Romans, Princes And Slaves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You love him,” he said, stunned and surprised. Rufus smiled this wistful smile again. “Of course, I love him, Erik the Mattiacer. How could I not love him?” 
> 
> “But, he made you a slave!” Erik spat out. “I'm a prince! I would never allow someone to make me a slave! I'd rather die before it came to this!”
> 
> What makes a Roman an enemy, what makes a prince a prince and what makes a slave a slave?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is about needing some personal time from time to time and about freedom and slavery. As I told you before, I loathe and hate the thought of slavery, but someone might be a slave and feel more free and happy than someone who is 'free', but unhappy and 'eaten alive' by his duties and worries. Freedom sometimes is a very personal thing and I wanted to show this with the new chapter.
> 
> You're a wonderful audience and I feel honored that you like my stories so much. Thank you!
> 
> Please, let me know if you like the new chapter, as well, it would be very important to me! A million thanks to all who will give me feedback!

Marcus headed to his private room at the other side of the bathroom opposite the pool, feeling Erik's confused and wistful glance upon his back. He didn't want to leave him alone, but he needed some private time for himself right now and he knew that Rufus would take care of Erik just like he would serve he himself.

He opened the door and found the red-haired man busied with cleaning the armor he had worn during the training fight. He sat cross-legged on the floor, bent over the now shining metal and when he heard the silent sound of the door, he looked up and smiled at his beloved master.

Marcus had wrapped another towel around his waist, but his unfulfilled desire was still clearly visible underneath it; and Rufus' eyes rested upon the large bulge for just one tiny second, before he looked up at his master's face again.

“Is everything all right, my master?” he asked with a soft expression on his delicate features and Marcus smiled weakly at him.

“Yes, Rufus. I just – need some time alone now. Please, go to Erik and take care of him. He won't attack you again.” he said, his voice husky and rough, strangled with his suppressed emotions. Rufus got up to his feet with one single and elegant move. He bowed his head before the Roman legatus.

“As you wish, my master. You don't need to be concerned, he just took me by surprise and I'm truly sorry for that, my master. It won't happen again,” he assured Marcus in the attempt to soothe him, because he could see that Marcus was still worried about this incident, despite his strong feelings for the young Teuton. It seemed as if he wanted to say something else, but then, he only placed the armor on a small table next to the door and said. “You surely want to bathe again, later. I'll see to your guest and we will wait for you in the living room, so you will have a little time on your own.”

Marcus smiled gratefully at his personal slave who was more a friend and a companion than anything else. He knew that Rufus would have been more than happy to see to his needs and his unfulfilled desire, but, he accepted that Marcus didn't want that right now and served him in the best way he was able to at the moment – by seeing to the confused Teuton prince and distract him until Marcus was ready to face him again.

Rufus bowed his head in a gesture of goodbye and left the room without another word, closing the door behind him, silently, but firmly. Marcus knew that no one would come here to disturb him, this was his private day room where he spent time after bathing. In the middle of the room was placed a comfortable daybed and Marcus oftentimes enjoyed lying there while Rufus' skilled hands eased the tension in his shoulders from his fights and his duties. Sometimes, he lay there, reading a book or taking a nap and sometimes, he enjoyed the red-haired man's other skills. Rufus was a good swimmer and they also oftentimes bathed together, either alone or with Marius and his personal slave Abdal.

Right now, he wasn't in the mood to lie down on the daybed, he just stayed where he was and leaned against the wall, suppressing a slight shiver as his heated back touched the cool stone. He closed his eyes and didn't wait until he heard Rufus' silent footsteps on the marble departing from his day room, he knew that Rufus would never spy on him and he loosened the towel the second the door closed with a dull 'plop' and wrapped his hand around his aching cock. When his trembling fingers touched the smooth skin, soft velvet over rock-hard steel, he bit his lip to keep the loud moan that threatened to escape his mouth inside.

He had been close to his own release ever since he had watched the Mattiacer coming undone, spilling his hot seed in his tender fingers and crying out in ecstasy, but, he took his time and wallowed in the memory of this special moment while he moved his hand up and down on his erection, slowly and almost torturing gentle, because he didn't want it to be over too soon. He felt the wetness of his desire underneath his fingertips as he caressed the engorged head of his proud manhood and smeared it along the shaft, so his finger would glide easier over the impressive length. His knees buckled and he leaned heavily against the wall that had become warm beneath his shoulders.

Marcus spread his legs and moved his other hand down on his torso until he reached his groin and cupped his balls, caressing them in the same tormenting slow rhythm he jerked himself off. His cock twitched helplessly and his lust made his blood rushing through his veins and down into his groin and his erection grew even harder and thicker. This time, a strangled moan fled from his lips and the movements of his hand became faster against his will. He was so close, poised on the brink of his forceful climax he had denied himself only a few minutes ago and he knew that he would come within the next few strokes. He stilled his hand, pausing for one more moment, to savor the pleasure, breathing hard, trying to let the delicious pain of his strong lust last a little longer, but then, he moved his right hand again, up and down, up and down, caressing his perineum with the fingertips of his other hand, pushing himself over the edge and into the sweet oblivion of his orgasm.

Time stood still and then, Marcus pumped his hot semen into his hand and all over his abdomen, the wonderful picture of Erik savoring his pleasure to the fullest before his mind's eye, one single loud gasp echoing in the room as he finally found his release. His legs turned into jelly and he struggled hard to stay upright on his feet when he was done, spent and sated, the pressure of his maddening arousal taken from his body, his mind and his heart.

Marcus heaved a relieved sigh and opened his eyes to consider the mess he had made. The towel lying crumpled on the floor before his feet had caught the most of it and he bent down and picked it up to clean his hand and his abdomen with it, before he folded it together and laid it at the foot of his daybed. Rufus would come here later to take the towel and clean it personally without ever losing a word about it, Marcus could count on that. Rufus was the most patient and gentle person one could imagine, but he ensured jealously that he was the only one of Marcus' slaves who was allowed to take care of his master's personal matters and needs and he would never have allowed anyone else to clean his underwear, his towels or his day room.

Marcus smiled and opened the door to the bath room again, knowing that he would be alone and undisturbed. He stalked to the pool and glided into the still warm water to swim a few rounds, using his rare free time to pull himself together again.

Later, there would be the more or less formal dinner to welcome their new primus pilus Nurio Santinus and he needed a clear head to be the perfect host he normally was when it came to such important events. Matteus and Severus would be there, too and – Erik as his hostage, of course, as well. Marcus was curious how his young Teuton would behave after their passionate encounter and he knew for sure that he would enjoy their next battles, now that he knew that Erik the Mattiacer returned his feelings. Erik finally would be his, it was only a matter of time, but the young Teuton prince would accept his fate sooner or later, Marcus now was sure about that.

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------

 

Erik stood where Marcus had left him, confused and uncertain. His limbs still had this melted feeling after his incredible climax and he longed to lie in the astonishing Roman's arms again. But, he also felt rather frustrated and rejected, because he might have been crazy with lust and half way out of his mind with his desire, but, of course, he had noticed that Marcus hadn't gotten his fill and he was anxious and unsure about why the young Roman hadn't let him return the favor.

He turned around as he heard fast footsteps coming closer, watching the red-haired slave making his way to him with single-minded determination. He had to admit that the Celt was handsome and a beautiful sight, but, he was only a slave and he was also his rival.

Erik blinked. Why was he thinking such stupid thoughts? He didn't want to be neither Marcus Retus' personal slave, nor his lover, guest, hostage or anything else. So why the hell should he consider a stupid slave as his rival? After all, he was the prince of his tribe and he was proud and free, no matter that he was trapped at the moment and he was standing much higher than this poor creature would ever stand. But, he couldn't help but eying the young man mistrustfully, searching for any sign that Marcus had allowed him to fulfill what he hadn't been allowed to do for the young Roman. Were his lips not redder than they should be? Was there not a satisfied spark in the dark brown eyes?

Rufus came to halt in front of him and considered him with an impassive mask on his handsome face. “You're wrong. My master would never behave like this. Apart from that, I might be fast and skilled, but not that fast and skilled,” he stated dryly, obviously reading his thoughts, and Erik blinked and blushed furiously.

Rufus smiled, a sad, wistful smile and his jaw worked hard, before he had pulled himself together and his face had softened again. “You're the one he truly wants, you don't have to be jealous, Erik the Mattiacer.”

Erik bit his lip. “Why didn't he let me do it for him, then?” he asked, hurt and desperate and not even thinking of denying his jealousy or what had happened in the pool. Rufus sighed and slightly shook his head. “You're asking the wrong person, Teuton,” he replied. “All I can tell you is that he cares for you, greatly and deeply.” The red-haired man didn't sound bitter, but Erik could see his emotions on his face.

“You love him,” he said, stunned and surprised. Rufus smiled this wistful smile again. “Of course, I love him, Erik the Mattiacer. How could I not love him?”

“But, he made you a _slave!_ ” Erik spat out. “I'm a _prince!_ I would never allow someone to make me a slave! I'd rather die before it came to this!”

Rufus began to dry Erik who still stood there, damp and naked, rubbing gently his hair and his body, before he combed his hair and began to massage some oil into his skin.

“I was once a prince myself, Erik the Mattiacer. I was proud and arrogant and said the same stupid things as you do now. I was the eldest son of my father and everyone expected me to become the next leader of the tribe. But, my father made a big mistake by betraying a strong Roman Commander and the Commander defeated us in a bloody battle. I was captured and because the Commander knew who I was, he didn't kill me, but gave me to one of his centurios as a punishment. The centurio was cruel and used me as his whipping boy and did things to me you even can't imagine and certainly don't want to know.  
I tried to end my misery three times, but, he always found me in time and made sure that I would survive, so he could abuse me again and again. I had to endure his cruelty for three years, before Marcus Retus visited the centurio's Commander and saw what the Commander's subordinate did to me. He made a deal with the Commander. He would play with him and if he won, I would become his.  
The Commander was addicted to the game of dice and he agreed to Marcus' proposal. Marcus played with him the entire night and he beat him and won.  
The very next day, he sat me in the saddle of his horse, because I was to weak to walk on my feet and he took me with him to his home. He took care of me until I had recovered from my injuries and then, he asked me if I wanted to go home to my tribe. But, I knew what my tribe would do to me because of the disgrace I had brought to them and I had no other place where I could have gone instead. Plus, I knew that the centurio would capture me again. So, I became his personal slave. He treats me better than my family had ever treated me and I'm free to do what I want to do, make his sometimes very hard life easier and pleasure him with my service. And I don't mean sex when I say this!” he added as he noticed Erik's glance.  
“He taught me reading and writing and I love to read books to him, to massage his back after a long day in the saddle and to talk to him about what moves him. Yes, I love him, but, I always knew that I can't have him and all I crave for is to be the one who serves him.”

Rufus finished dressing Erik and waved at him. “Come with me. We will wait in the living room for my master and your host.” he said and Erik who still had to digest the astonishing truth the other man had told him got the impression that Rufus wanted him to leave the bath room, but, stubborn as he was, he stayed where he stood, not wanting to leave without the young Roman who had gotten under his skin so fast and easily.

When he heard an unmistakable silent gasp making its way across the room to his ears, he knew why Rufus had hurried so much and why he had wanted him to leave and the annoyed expression on the slave's face told him that Rufus had heard this sound, as well and that he was angry because Erik had been a witness of something he hadn't been supposed to be a witness of. Erik swallowed and felt deeply ashamed all of a sudden. The least thing he could have done was to respect Marcus unspoken wish to have some personal time on his own and he followed Rufus who was heading to the door now with his head lowered to the ground. The other man didn't need to tell him that he should forget what he had heard and never mention it, he would never put the legatus to shame by letting him know that he had stayed in the bathroom for too long.

Erik followed Rufus through the corridor and the large hall to the living room and he felt an odd connection with the other man. Both of them were under the spell of the remarkable young Roman Commander, each of them in their special kind of way. And for one short moment, as Rufus now walked before him with his head held up high, he could see the proud prince of another tribe Rufus once had been. For one short moment, they were not a prince who was a hostage now and a personal slave who had been a prince himself a long time before they had met, but just two young man, equal and united in their longing for Marcus who had trapped both of their hearts without having to use chains and ropes to do so. All that Marcus had needed to capture them had been his smile and his kindness and Erik wasn't sure if he would ever be free again.


	12. After A Long And Exhausting Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik and Marcus bathed together and will have dinner with Marcus' officers now. What will happen after the dinner?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You are a wonderful audience and I love to write this fic for you! I'm as eager to let Marcus and Erik be together as you probably are, but, there will be some obstacles along their way they have to overcome, even if they are coming much closer in between, so please don't think that the end of this chapter will announce their happy ending...
> 
> Have fun reading it and please, continue with your support and let me know if you liked it!

When Marcus entered the living room, he had found back to his usual level-headed behavior and his iron self-control. He wore a light toga over his tunic and Rufus eyed him critically, because he hadn't been there to arrange the pleats, but he found nothing out of order and therefore smiled contentedly at his master.  
Marcus smiled back, slightly amused about the Celt's silent praise. Sometimes, when it came to things like this, Marcus already felt as if Rufus were the master and he himself were the slave, because the red-haired man considered the right dressing code and the formal rules of the Roman's social life as much more important than Marcus oftentimes did.

Erik sat on a thick cushion on the floor again, staring out of the window and into the dawn. Marcus took another cushion and came to him. Erik didn't look at him, but the expression on his face wasn't defiant, but thoughtfully and a little bit sad. Marcus sat down close to him and reached out with his hand. He let his fingers glide over Erik's stubbly cheek and the young Teuton finally turned his head to look at him. Marcus smiled and after one short moment of hesitation, Erik smiled back and pressed his face into the touch. Marcus bent forward and kissed him gently on his forehead and Erik sighed wistfully. Marcus was tempted to kiss him on his still very red lips, but the door opened just as he leaned in revealing Severus and Matteus who entered the room and Marcus drew back from the young Teuton again. They greeted Marcus respectfully, frowning curiously because their Commander sat on the floor.

Marcus stayed where he was, although he had to look up at his subordinates as they lay down on the recliners. But, his natural authority didn't suffer from his position on the floor at all and he only said: “Erik isn't used to lie during his meals and I don't want him to be the only one sitting on the floor.”

Matteus pursed his lips, but then, he took another cushion and sat down on the floor, too, leaning against his recliner. Severus didn't follow his example, serving himself with the delicious wine two of the house slaves had brought. The door opened again and Marius and Nurio entered the room and Marcus could see the happiness in his eyes whenever he gazed at the beautiful centurio with the black locks and the proud posture. Marius paused when he saw his best friend sitting on the thick cushion, but Marcus jerked his head to Marius' favorite recliner and his second lay down on it with Nurio at his right side.

Marius, Matteus and Severus had learned the guttural Teuton language like Marcus himself, but, Nurio of course wouldn't have understood it and Marcus shot a quick amused glance at the Mattiacer with the light golden-brown hair and said: “Erik speaks Latin, so we can use our mother tongue.” Matteus grinned, winking with his left eye at Erik. “Yes, I almost thought so. I've gotten the impression yesterday when we had to bathe you that you understood quite well what we were talking about in our mother language, even though you tried to hide it.”

Erik frowned. “Why bothering if I understand what you're talking about?” He asked with defiance in his husky voice. The memory of another bath he had had just one hour ago reddened his cheeks in a nice pink and Marcus smiled at him. “Because you are my guest and it would be incredible impolite to talk in a language you don't understand, Erik the Mattiacer.”

Erik chewed on his lip and Marcus could see that he wasn't sure if he should insist of being considered as a captive or not, but, their bath seemed to have torn down his walls at least a little bit and he instinctively moved closer to Marcus as if he sought shelter by him. Marcus laid his arm around Erik's shoulder and Erik leaned in and relaxed gratefully. Marcus smiled, pulling him close. Yes, the young Teuton prince would be his, it was only a matter of time.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------

 

The meal had been delicious, the wine had been light and very drinkable and the conversation had been lighthearted and stimulating. Marcus had made sure that they didn't speak about politics, not only because of his beautiful hostage who had snuggled closer and closer to him during dinner, but also because he hadn't wanted to ruin the mood. The disaster of the lost battle in the Teutoburger Forest was still pressing down on every Roman and so they had talked about the fine arts, horses and architecture. Marius had been busy with shooting adoring glances at Nurio who had been busied with smiling seductively at Marius while Erik had been busied with cuddling up to Marcus and with staring dreamily out of the window. Severus and Matteus had been busied with hiding their amusement about the four lovebirds and all the six of them had been busied with enjoying their company and the food and their drinks.

Rufus and Abdal had been busied with keeping the house slaves busied and making themselves invisible while doing so and as Marcus now gave his red-haired Celt a slight jerk with his head, Rufus nodded and left the living room to prepare his bedroom for sleeping. Marcus gently stroked Erik's rosy cheek to get his attention. Erik had dozed on his shoulder and now blinked wearily at him.

“Time for bed, sleepy head,” Marcus teased him tenderly. He stood up and offered Erik who seemed to be still dazed and a little bit confused his hand to help him up. Erik took the offered right and stood up with wobbly legs. Severus and Matteus were already on their way to the door waving at them, knowing that their presence wasn't needed any longer. Marius and Nurio lay still on the recliners having eyes only for themselves.

“I need to use the latrine first,” Erik murmured sheepishly. Marcus had showed him the water latrines in the villa and Erik had been stunned like a child that had seen the great emperor for the first time. The rooms for the guest's servants had only buckets and it was apparent that Erik preferred to use the water latrine instead of the bucket. Marcus smiled by the thought of how fast the young Mattiacer had adapted to this special kind of luxury he hadn't known before.

“Of course, Erik,” he only stated, leading the brunette across the hall and to his private rooms. Erik stopped, frowning. “Where are we going to? This isn't the way to the latrine,” he complained, because he only knew the public latrine near the hall every member of the household and every guest could use.

Marcus wrapped his arm around his waist and gently forced him to continue his way. “Yes, it is. We're on our way to my rooms. I have a restroom next to my bedroom where you will have your privacy, Erik. It was a long and exhausting day with a lot of new impressions for you and I know how tired and confused you must feel. You certainly will feel much more comfortable if you can see to your needs without being watched at. After that, you can decide if you want to stay in the room where you spent the night yesterday or if you will stay with me.”

Erik turned his head. “You let me use your private rooms?” he asked incredulously.

“Yes. I don't think that you prefer to use the public latrine, right?” Marcus' gaze was tender and gentle and Erik leaned against him, letting himself be led to Marcus' rooms without any objection.

“Some privacy would be nice,” he admitted thoughtfully. “At home, it is normal to do this in public, but, I always had problems when someone was watching me.”

“I thought so.” Marcus opened the door to his private rooms and guided him to a small restroom with a latrine and a wash stand at the other wall. Rufus had seen to fresh towels and soap and there was also the sand and two of the small brushes Marcus used to clean his teeth. The room had a small window right under the ceiling for fresh air, too small to use it as a way to escape and Marcus was also sure that Erik would keep his promise and didn't try to escape. He was pale from his exhaustion and Marcus stroked his cheek again and said: “Take your time and call if you need something,” before he left the room and closed the door behind him.

Rufus was waiting for him in his bedroom. “I saw to fresh bedclothes, my master. I guess that you want him to stay with you tonight?” His expression gave nothing away of his feelings and Marcus gently pulled him close and stroked his hair.

“I'm sorry, Rufus,” he whispered in his ear, but the young Celt drew back a little bit to look at him and smiled. “Everything is fine, my master. As long as you'll keep me as your personal slave and servant and as long as you won't send me away, I will be happy and content.”

“I would never send you away, Rufus. I care for you and you are much more to me than only my personal slave or a servant, you know that, right?”

“I know, Marcus,” Rufus softly assured him. Marcus had allowed him to use his name right from the beginning, but Rufus did so only rare times and never in public, but he seemed to sense how confused the Roman legatus was and tried to ease the weight of responsibility that pressed down on his shoulders somehow. Marcus kissed him on his forehead and stepped back, so Rufus could undress his toga. “You know that you have my permission to satisfy your needs with someone else?”

Rufus folded the toga and hung it at the hook on the wall. “Yes, Marcus, I know. I will tell you if it comes to that,” he promised, nodding his head. “Is there anything else you wish me to do, my master?” he asked after he had helped Marcus out of his sandals, slipping back into the role of the servant instead of the friend and companion.

“No, thank you Rufus. Go to bed, it was a long day.” Rufus bowed before him and left Marcus' bedroom. He had his own comfortable room at the other side where he would hear his master's call if Marcus needed him. Marcus sighed and went to the window, staring into the dark without actually seeing something. He listened to the silent sounds that made their way through the closed door as Erik used the washtub to wash his face and his hands and closed the shutters, locking them with the key. He did so not only because of Erik, but also for his safety, because he had had some encounters with thieves and criminals several times in other camps and knew that it was better to be safe than sorry.

He turned around to look at Erik as he entered the bedroom, hesitantly and shyly and closed the distance between them with three fast steps. “Where do you want to stay, Erik?” he inquired, his voice raw and filled with suppressed emotions and Erik swallowed audibly. “With you,” he whispered hoarsely, his eyes filled with so much longing that they were almost black.

Marcus felt a strong wave of possessiveness, tenderness and desire rushing through his veins and he raised his hand to caress the brunette's trembling lips with his thumb. “Will you still be here when I'll come back?” he asked him and Erik nodded without hesitation. “Yes, I will.”

Marcus' gaze was intense like a soft caress. “I'll be quick,” he promised before he turned around to his restroom and closed the door behind him.


	13. Passion In The Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik has decided to stay with Marcus during the night. What will happen in Marcus' bedroom?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was asked to let Marcus and Erik have their first night together before Erik might do something really stupid and I gladly obeyed, because the boys asked me the same question.
> 
> You're an absolute awesome and wonderful audience and I love to write this story for you! Thank you so much for your wonderful support, the kudos and the comments and please, keep them going and tell me if you like the new chapter as much as the last ones!

Erik looked around in Marcus' bedroom, curiously and stunned by the luxury he saw. Erik was used to sleep with several relatives in one room on a small cot and he couldn't believe his eyes as he considered the large bed placed at one of the walls with soft pillows and thick covers upon it. It seemed to call out for him and looked so invitingly that Erik couldn't resist and crawled upon it, snuggling close under the fragrant covers.

The room was rather dark, Rufus had lit up only two small oil lamps, one next to the door and the other one at the wall near the window and the flickering lights threw shadows at the walls and at the ceiling. Erik watched the shadows, looking like some strange creatures and animals moving and playing with each other, but his eyelids started to drop and he was about to fall asleep as the door to the restroom opened and Marcus emerged in the entrance to the bedroom.

Erik was wide awake within one second again and his eyes flew open.

Marcus dimmed the light in the lamps even more, until only a tiny flame was left and came to the bed. Erik moved to the other side of the bed, uncertainly, not sure what the Roman expected him to do.

Marcus lay down beside him, turning on his side to look at him. “You must be very tired, Erik. You don't have to fear that I shall try to seduce you. You can go to sleep.”

Erik bit his lip. “I'm not tired,” he finally admitted sheepishly. Marcus' blue eyes were dark with his desire, but, his face was impassive as he considered the young Teuton thoughtfully. He reached out and stroked tenderly Erik's soft bottom lip with his thumb. “Are you sure?” he asked hoarsely and Erik could hear his desire in the soft and warm voice as much as he saw it in Marcus' eyes. “Yes, I'm sure,” he replied, his own longing audible in his raw confession.

Marcus smiled and it was such a beautiful and tender smile that it took Erik's breath away. “Come here, Erik,” he demanded softly and Erik obeyed without hesitation. He slid back in the middle of the bed and Marcus did the same until they met, their bodies touching in full length. Erik shivered, but it wasn't a shiver of fear or cold, but of arousal. Marcus pulled him close and gently pressed him into the mattress, covering him with his body while he searched for the brunette's tempting lips.

Erik sighed and wrapped his arms around the blonde Roman, his lips parting invitingly as Marcus claimed his mouth in another passionate kiss. He couldn't see much in the darkness, but he felt even more this way. Marcus' male scent filled his nose and his slight stubble scratched gently over his skin as Marcus kissed him deeply and almost roughly, with lips, teeth and tongue, not holding back any longer and showing him how much he desired him. Erik's moan was swallowed by the hungry mouth that captured his own eagerly and ardently and Erik's body reacted immediately to the sensations that overwhelmed his senses, as a strong wave of desire washed over him, leaving him tingling and aching for more, much more.

Marcus was already rock-hard and he did nothing to hide his longing, quite the opposite, his hand slid down on his back to Erik's backside and pressed it demanding against his groin, rubbing his erection against Erik's thigh. Erik's short tunic had slipped up and Erik felt the drops of pre-come on the engorged head of Marcus' impressive cock moistening his skin. He moaned again and Marcus drew back from his bruised lips and bit tenderly in his earlobe instead.

“I want you, Erik, by Jupiter, you have no idea how much I want you!” he breathed in his ear and Erik shivered again. “I want you, too, please...” he gasped desperately and Marcus growled, possessively. He made short work of Erik's tunic and then, of his own and Erik moaned as he felt the heat of Marcus' with arousal flushed skin against his own. His hands roamed over the Roman's well-trained hard body, the fever of his own desire and lust making him lose his self-control and his reservations completely and Marcus covered his face and his throat with hot wet kisses, biting, nibbling, licking and teasing until Erik cried out with need. Marcus' hands seemed to be everywhere on his body, everywhere except for the one place where he longed so much for his touch and he cried out again. “Marcus, please, oh please, I need – I need to...”

Marcus laughed breathlessly. “I know, darling, I know. You'll get what you need, don't worry,” he whispered huskily against his lips, before he captured his mouth again, leaving his mark on him and claiming the young man as his own.

Erik arched his back, searching for friction and release from this sweet torture, but Marcus growled and pressed him back into the mattress. He reached out for something on the small table beside the bed and Erik suddenly felt Marcus' hand between his thighs, the fingers slippery with some cool liquid. He tensed, but Marcus' now tender lips soothed him.

“Hush, darling, don't be afraid. I would never hurt you. Just relax, you will like it, I promise you.” He rubbed with his finger over the sensitive skin of Erik's puckered rosebud, massaging the liquid that warmed under the touch into it. Erik moaned surprised as another wave of arousal shot through his groin, making him even harder as he already was.

Marcus nibbled at his ear and let his finger slip into the young Teuton's secret entrance, just to the first knuckle. Erik tensed again, but only for one second, because the Roman stroked his perineum with two other fingers now, leaving his digit where it was and slipping with his tongue into Erik's ear. Erik gasped and instinctively spread his legs to give his skilled lover better access. Marcus growled contentedly and pushed the finger deeper and this time, Erik stayed relaxed, trusting him that he wouldn't hurt him. Marcus moved his finger back and forth and then, there was a sudden jolt of hot white electric pleasure hitting Erik without warning and he cried out loudly and arched his back again.

Marcus chuckled very pleased. “Ah, here we go, there it is,” he whispered at his cheek and did it again, whatever it was that he had been doing. Erik moaned and shivered and Marcus chuckled again, kissing him.

“Yes, baby, give it to me,” he encouraged him tenderly. “Give it all to me, don't hold yourself back.”

He brushed his finger over this special spot deep inside Erik's secret core again and again and Erik was soon a panting, squirming and quivering mess, poised at the brink of an incredible orgasm. He had never felt anything like this in his whole life and all he could do was to beg in broken incoherent pleas for release. His legs were spread wide now, his aching cock was leaking with the creamy white wetness Marcus milked from him with his finger deep inside him and his head was thrown back on the pillow. He hadn't realized that Marcus somewhere in between this sweet torture had added a second finger, only feeling the stimulation much more intensive than before. When he now added the third finger, scissoring them slightly, he groaned with both pleasure and a little pain, but the burning feeling soon faded and only the pleasure remained.

“Please, I need to come! Marcus, please, I really need to come!” Erik almost sobbed, his dick twitching helplessly although Marcus hadn't touched him there and also didn't make any attempt to do so now.

“You will come, baby, don't worry. But, I want to be buried deep inside you when you do, darling. I want to feel your walls milking me and I want to enjoy your pleasure when I'm sheathed to the hilt inside you, Erik the Mattiacer, so you have to wait a little longer.”

Erik whimpered and Marcus swallowed his needy sounds with his hungry kisses while he prepared him gently, but mercilessly. When he finally pulled his fingers out, Erik was halfway out of his mind, crazy with lust and desire, and the only thing he could think of was that he wanted to belong to this impressive and remarkable Roman, completely and unquestioningly. He wanted to be his and be as close to him as two beings only could be. Marcus lined his own erection up with the cool liquid and made himself comfortable between Erik's trembling and sweaty legs.

“I'm gonna make you mine now, Erik,” he told him, his voice rough and possessive. “I'm gonna take you now and make you all mine. You belong to me and I want you to give yourself to me without any question!”

Erik whimpered again. “Yes, Marcus, please, take me, please, I wanna be yours!” he pleaded and Marcus rewarded him with a passionate kiss while he slowly and gently searched his way into the Mattiacer's tight heat. Erik felt the impressive length breaching his entrance, stretching him in a way he had never been filled and stretched before and he tensed, fighting unconsciously against the other male's intrusion.

Marcus stilled his movements, waiting patiently for Erik to adapt to him. “Don't fight me, baby, everything's fine, darling. Give in to me, Erik, please, I need to be inside you, please, let me in,” he murmured, dabbing tender kisses all over his face and Erik eventually relaxed and pushed his hips up to feel Marcus deeper inside his needy body.

“Yes, darling, just like that, I'm not gonna hurt you, trust me. I will never hurt you.” Marcus began to move forward again, tenderly inch by inch, filling Erik's empty core with his manhood, his passion and his own longing. “Wrap your legs around my waist, baby,” Marcus demanded softly as he felt Erik giving in to him and Erik obeyed without hesitation, wrapping his long legs around Marcus' midsection and digging his heels into his perfect, strong-muscled backside.

The remarkable Roman moaned and shuddered as he thrust into him now with slow rolling movements, pulling almost out until only the tip of his proud manhood was still inside him and pushing his way back until he was buried balls-deep again. They were both a sticky and sweaty mess and the sounds of their wet skin smacking against each other and the hoarse moans and gasps that filled the darkness of the night made Erik feel their ardent mating even more intense. Marcus now brushed with his pulsing cock over that special spot inside him as he had done with his fingers before and his own dick trapped between their bodies rubbed against Marcus' abdomen with every move. Erik clung helplessly to Marcus's shoulders, digging his nails into the smooth skin, leaving red marks there as the Roman now possessed him completely, shoving and pushing him relentlessly to completion while he chased his own release.

“Want you, baby, want you so!” he breathed into his mouth, imitating the movements of his hips with his tongue as he thrust in the same rhythm into the sweet cavern of Erik's mouth. Erik trembled and shivered and his aching cock, wet and slick with his arousal twitched and throbbed, ready to shoot its load. He raised his hips as he felt the pleasure of his orgasm build in his groin and Marcus drew back from his lips to look at him, wrapping his sweaty hand around Erik's needy cock.

“I want you to come for me now, Erik!” he commanded and there was nothing that Erik could do to last longer as he heard the rough order and he obeyed and came hard, arching widely as he shot his salty release in hot and fast jets between their bodies and all over Marcus' fingers stroking him passionately through his climax.

“Yes, baby, give it to me, give it all to me, don't hold anything back,” Marcus whispered tenderly, milking the last drop of pleasure and ecstasy from him and Erik knew that the Roman was watching him, intently and closely, noticing every shudder and every shiver despite the darkness surrounding them.

When the breathtaking sensation of the longest and most incredible orgasm he had ever had finally faded to the soft waves of the afterglow, he dropped back onto the mattress, spent and limp, unable to move anything but his little finger.

“Marcus, please, I need you to come, too, please!” he croaked out and Marcus let go of his softening manhood and wrapped his arms tightly around him, burying his face into the crook of his neck. “I will, right now!” he promised him hoarsely and jerked his hips forward as he eventually found his own release, filling him with his hot semen again and again, moaning and shuddering violently through the throes of his own ecstasy and passion. Erik arched into the touch to take all of it, pressing his feet into the blonde male's butt to keep him from pulling away as Marcus finally relaxed above him, his ragged breathing puffing hot and wet air against the sensitive skin of Erik's throat.

They stayed like this for a while, enjoying the aftermath of their wonderful coupling and their closeness until Marcus finally raised his head, stroking Erik's cheek. “I need to get up, darling. We have to cleanup before sleeping,” he told him and Erik hesitantly loosened his tight embrace. Marcus placed a chaste kiss upon his swollen lips and got up. Erik watched him disappear into the restroom and coming back with a wet cloth and a towel. He sat down on the edge of the bed and gently wiped the proofs of their shared passion from his still flushed body. Erik smiled sleepily at him and Marcus smiled back and kissed him again. “I'll be back, right away,” he promised before he crossed the room again to bring the cloth and the towel back where they belonged.

Erik snuggled close under the covers and when he felt Marcus' warm body cuddling up to him again, he laid his head upon his chest and contentedly close his eyes. He didn't know if he had ever felt as safe and happy as he felt right now, but he knew that his doubts would come back the very next day. Marcus was still his jailer, no matter how he called himself or how he called Erik.

But, right now, he was only the wonderful young man who had satisfied him like no one else had ever done before and Erik pushed his disturbing thoughts back into the corner of his mind and let himself be lulled into the slumber of satisfaction and exhaustion by the soft movements of Marcus stroking his hair. The darkness of the night was soft and warm and the morning was still far away and Erik gratefully let his guard down and fell asleep, a happy smile on his handsome face.


	14. A Midnight Bath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcus and Erik left the living room after the dinner and Marius is alone now with Nurio. Nurio suggests a bath and Marius agrees to it. Taking a bath in the middle of the night can be very pleasurable...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will go on with the plot, but, Mario and Nuri were eager to have their first encounter, as well and I promised them to let them bath together.
> 
> I hope you will enjoy reading about their passionate bath, please, let me know if you liked it and leave kudos or comments if you did! You're an awesome audience and it's always a pleasure to write for you!

Marius didn't notice that Marcus had left the living room with the young Teuton, he had only eyes for the young centurio Nurio who watched him with his wonderful dark eyes, a slight smile upon his beautiful chiseled features.

“I heard that you have a nice bathroom here, what about taking a bath?” Nurio suggested in a dark, purring voice and Marius felt a shiver of anticipation running down his spine. Luckily, he had ordered his personal slave Abdal to prepare everything for a late bath earlier in the evening during the meal. The water had to be warmed up again and they needed fresh clothes and towels. He was sure that Abdal had done what he had told him to do and he nodded eagerly.

“A bath would be a good idea,” he croaked out and stood up from his recliner with shaky legs. He hadn't drunk much, but, his excitement and his fear that Nurio maybe didn't feel the same way for him as he felt for the young centurio boosted the effect of the alcohol a little bit. He took a deep breath and jerked his head in the door's direction, because Nurio still lay on the recliner. “You coming?” he asked, his voice trembling slightly.

Nurio stood up with one elegant move. He laid his hand upon Marius' shoulder and Marius suppressed another shiver. He was crazy for this young man and he would die if Nurio didn't want him as much as he wanted the primus pilus. He headed to the bathroom, hoping that Abdal in the meantime had seen to all preparations, dwelling in the warmth Nurio's hand radiated on his arm.

 

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Abdal had waited for his master in the bathroom, ready to undress him, but Nurio's glance had made Marius send him away. Abdal had bowed before him and shot Nurio a strange look, before he had left, obviously not willing to leave his adored and beloved master alone with the unknown centurio. He had just closed the door when Nurio invaded Marius' space, opening the belt that held the tunic with firm movements.

“Let me serve you, tribunus,” he purred as he removed the belt and then pulled the tunic over Marius' head. Marius raised his arms to help him, blushing slightly as he stood there only dressed with his briefs that didn't cover the large bulge of his painful hard erection and the obvious proof of his desire for the other man. Nurio smiled and let his eyes travel over Marius' body, before he tugged at the last garment covering his manhood. “You're so beautiful,” he whispered in his ear caressing his cheek with his lips while he undressed the young Roman who almost trembled with impatience.

“Wanna feel you, too, Nurio!” he whispered breathlessly and Nurio chuckled quietly. “You will feel me, don't worry, my beautiful Marius,” he murmured, leaving a wet trace upon his jaw as he nibbled his way to Marius' mouth. When he reached it, he pulled Marius close and Marius' flushed skin was pressed against the linen of Nurio's tunic. He moaned as the garment stimulated his over-sensitive skin in a very arousing way, pressing himself even closer without thinking.

Nurio swallowed the needy sound with his hungry mouth and demanded entrance to the sweet cavern of Marius' mouth tasting of the wine and the meal they had had and of pure Marius. Marius let him in, eager to taste Nurio, as well. Their tongues played with each other, a tender battle that neither of them wanted to win. When Marius' head was spinning with desire and lust, Nurio pulled away from him, ripping his own tunic and brief from his body. Marius gulped for air as he saw the young centurio in all his naked glory.

He was perfectly built and Marius moaned again, his hands reaching out to explore the wonderful male body standing in front of him. Nurio kissed him again and pulled him with him and they slowly made their way to the large pool, eager to get into the warm water.

Nurio was the one to enter the pool first and Marius let himself glide over the edge straight into the centurio's waiting arms. His erect dick slid down along Nurio's strong-muscled abdomen and he moaned as Nurio grabbed his buttocks and kept him in the height of his waist, pressing the brunette against the wall of the pool and kissing him again. Marius was trapped between the tiles of the wall and the hard male body and it aroused him incredibly to be at the other male's mercy. He was a tough and brave soldier, but in his private life, he loved to let the other male take the lead.

The water sloshed and splashed around them and Marius wrapped his arms and his legs around the other man while they kissed each other open-mouthed with lips, teeth and tongues, with so much hunger and need that it took their breath away. Marius caressed Nurio's slippery back and Nurio let one hand glide deeper until he reached the secret valley between his cheeks, stroking the smooth skin there. Marius moaned and gasped, waiting feverishly for Nurio to explore his needy core.

Nurio snickered very pleased as he sensed Marius' willingness. He drew back from his lips and licked his way down to the young Roman's vulnerable throat while he explored the secrets of his body with his clever and very skilled fingers. Marius threw his head back, exposing his throat even more and Nurio took advantage of that, licking over the salty skin until Marius began to shiver.

The centurio felt for the soap lying on the tiles near the pool and slicked his fingers up before he finally did what Marius was craving for so badly, pushing his finger deep inside the brunette. Marius arched his back and cried out with lust and ardor.

“By Jupiter, yes, oh yes, please!” He dug his nails into Nurio's shoulder-blades and Nurio growled contentedly.  
“I'm gonna make you mine now, tribunus, all mine. I'm gonna take you and mark you as mine!” he whispered hoarsely in his ear and Marius nodded eagerly, halfway out of his mind with wanting.

“Yes, do it, just do it!” Marius encouraged the black-haired man who soon added a second finger, brushing mercilessly over the one spot that made Marius cry out with need and passion every single time Nurio hit it. Marius had always loved to bottom and he had always responded to this kind of stimulation, but, it had never been like it was now, with Nurio, the young primus pilus who had stolen his heart right with the first look in his eyes. Nurio claimed his lips in another bruising kiss, preparing him in a way no one else had ever done before and when he finally was content with his preparation, pulling his fingers out, Marius was sure that he would die if Nurio didn't take him right now.

Nurio chuckled as he noticed Marius' impatience. “Don't worry, my beautiful Marius, I will take you right away now. I will bury myself deep into your tight heat and I will impale you on my hard spear until you scream my name and forget everyone else who ever had you before me!” he promised, his voice raw with his own passion and desire.

He spread a generous amount of soap all over his impressive hard length and then, lowered the brunette slowly down on his throbbing cock, eager to feel Marius' walls enclosing him and milking his own pleasure from him.

Marius gasped out as the other man's manhood breached his entrance, stretching and filling him slowly inch by inch, claiming him and marking him just with the first intrusion in a way no one else had ever been able to claim him before. He moaned and trembled as Nurio pressed him harder against the tiles of the pool's wall, shoving him against them with every passionate thrust deep inside his aching core. He felt the dark eyes upon his face, watching him closely, noticing every shudder, every tiny sound that escaped his swollen lips and the expression of sheer lust on his features. Nurio's hands kept his hips firmly in place, making it impossible for him to answer to the thrusts and move himself and all Marius could do was taking whatever Nurio wanted to give him. The dark-haired centurio changed his angle and began to pound into the young tribunus in a punishing rhythm, causing the water surrounding them to splash over the edge of the pool. The waves of the warm water stimulated Marius' rock-hard aching dick still trapped between their bodies and rubbing against Nurio's abdomen with every move even more and Marius felt his orgasm building at the end of his spine, the pleasure spreading out from there into every cell of his body screaming for release.

“By Jupiter, please, don't stop, I'm close!” he ground out through gritted teeth and Nurio's chuckle tickled his sensitive ear. “I know, my beautiful tribunus! I want you to come for me and milk me with your sweet walls crumbling around me. Just let go and surrender to me!”

And Marius did. “Nurio!” He arched his back and cried out as he came hard, clinging desperately to Nurio's shoulders while shudder after shudder wrecked him from head to toe in time to the hot fast jets of creamy white stripes he shot all over their bellies. His walls clenched rhythmically around the hard manhood impaling him again and again, telling Nurio that he had been able to satisfy the other man totally and completely. Marius cried out again, as the centurio followed him over the edge, marking him as his as he filled him with his hot release and ecstasy, pumping his seed deep inside the shivering male, pulling every bit of his incredible ecstasy from him until Marius was completely spent and had nothing more to give.

Both panted heavily as the ecstasy and pleasure faded to the warm stream of the afterglow and Marius melted against the man who had satisfied him more than any other living being before.

Nurio let go of his hip and buried the fingers of his left hand in Marius' short hair to kiss him again, a tender and soft kiss full of love and happiness.

“You're mine now, tribunus laticlavius Marius Gordianus and I will never let you go again,” he whispered when they finally parted and Marius smiled at him and pulled him in for another kiss.

“Yes, I'm yours, primus pilus Nurio Santinus and I will never want to leave you,” he replied happily, sealing their bond with a tender kiss.


	15. Leaving The Camp

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the passionate night, Marcus has to see to his duties again and he wants to have Erik by his side. That means that Erik has to ride a horse and leave the camp for the first time after his captivity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the start of the forthcoming continuation of the plot and I hope that you will like it! You're a wonderful audience and I'm happy that you like my Roman-Teuton-AU so much, although it has nothing to do with football.
> 
> Enjoy reading the new chapter and please, give me feedback and leave comments or kudos if you liked it! :-)

Erik woke up next to Marcus, snuggled close to the fragrant body that had kept him warm and safe all night. When he opened his eyes, he found Marcus watching him with a tender expression in his eyes.

“Good morning, sleepy head,” Marcus greeted him with gentle amusement as he felt the hooded hazel-green gaze upon him and he bent forward to press a sweet and loving kiss on Erik's still swollen lips. Erik sighed, trying to pull the young Roman closer, but, Marcus gently loosened his grip. “I would love to pleasure you, my sweet Erik, but, we have a lot to do today and we need to get up, dress and have breakfast,” he said regretfully and Erik pursed his lips in a pouting manner.

Marcus chuckled, pleased and sympathetically. “I know, my eager one, but, I will reward you tonight if you will be a good guy and stand up now.” Erik tried to scowl at him. “I'm not your stallion!” he complained and Marcus stroked his face and kissed him again. “No, you're my beautiful Teuton,” he remarked in a hoarse voice and with a passionate look in his eyes, kissing him once more before he snickered and sat up as Erik moaned, aroused.

“Later! We have to get up, my ardent Mattiacer!” He moved away from Erik's hands reaching out for him again and stood up with one single fluent move. Erik sighed and did the same, not quite as elegant as Marcus, because he felt still dazed from having been sound asleep only minutes before. Marcus jerked his head to the restroom door and said: “You can use it, I was already there before you woke up.”

He shook a little bell and the door opened almost instantly, revealing Rufus who appeared in the doorway. Erik hurried to grab his tunic and close the door of the restroom, Marcus silent chuckle following him through the closed door. “Rufus is allowed to see you naked, Erik!” he shouted after him. “He will serve you as he serves me and you can trust him as much as you can trust me.”

Erik blushed although Marcus couldn't see him and mumbled something intelligible, because he wasn't used to be treated this way. He hadn't forgotten that he was a prisoner or maybe a 'hostage' whatever the differences between those two states might be, he wasn't allowed to leave the fortified camp and that was all that mattered to him.

He needed to search for his sister, because he had promised her that he would never let her down and yet he sat here, surrounded by an incredible luxury and with his heart captured by a young remarkable Roman and all he craved for was to leave Mogontiacum and rescue his sister or at least, find out what had happened to her. He had been so sure that he would find her here in Mogntiacum, but, he had been wrong.

He sighed and his good mood faded a little bit while he dressed, musing about a way how he could leave this camp and – Marcus, although his heart was bleeding by only the thought of losing him.

 

\--------------------------------------------------

 

After a quick breakfast where Erik had had a hard time with hiding his thoughts from Marcus who had sensed his mood change and watched him closely, Marcus took him to the stables. Erik had ridden a horse only few times, the thick forests of Germania weren't meant for horses and only few Teuton tribes had horses, but, Erik had always liked and admired these beautiful animals.

Thunder snorted with excitement as he picked up the scent of his beloved owner and Marcus opened the box and entered it, Erik in tow, obviously as eager to cuddle with his stallion as his white Arab was. He patted the snow white neck and Thunder snorted and pressed his smooth nose in the crook of Marcus' arm. “Hello, my good boy,” he purred in Thunder's ear that twitched by the familiar sounds, “I want you to meet someone.” Marcus turned his head and waved at Erik who had stopped by the entrance to the box, watching them cautiously.

“Erik, please, meet the only male you have to share me with: Thunder, my stallion. Thunder, this is Erik. He means a lot to me and you're not allowed to be jealous of him, understood? You will carry him on your back as you carry me!” he told the thoroughbred and the stallion listened to him and snorted again, as if he wanted to agree to Marcus' request. Marcus took Erik's hand and held the palm before Thunder's mouth. Erik swallowed as the Arab lowered his mouth onto his palm, licking over the salty skin to take in his scent and his taste, keeping his hand still, although the rough tongue was tickling his skin. Thunder neighed silently and moved his head up and down as if he wanted to nod and Marcus smiled, praising his beautiful horse in a tender voice.

“Yes, Thunder, Erik is precious to me and I'm happy that you like him, Take good care of him will you?” Thunder neighed in agreement again and Marcus patted his neck one last time before he began to prepare him for the ride while Thunder contentedly chewed on the apple Marcus had fed him with as a reward for his behavior.

“I have to check the walls and the sentry towers and I want you to come with me,” he said, while Erik watched him saddling his stallion. “Do you expect me to ride, as well?” he asked hesitantly and Marcus smiled at him.

“Of course, Erik, our camp is much too large to circle it within one day walking on our own feet,” he said with slight amusement. “You will ride Thunder. He won't do you any harm, don't worry. I will take another horse.”

“You let me ride your horse?” Erik inquired, stunned and confused.

“Of course, my beautiful Erik. You will be safe on Thunder's back and I don't mind to ride one of the other horses if this means that you will be as comfortable as you can be as a beginner.”

He took Thunder's reins and the Arab followed him willingly out of the box with dancing steps, happy and eager to get out of the stable and move his legs. In the meantime, one of the legionaries had saddled a vivacious mare, an elegant crossbreed of a red-brown color and Erik remembered that Marcus' subordinate Severus had ridden this horse when they had captured him.

Marcus stroked her nose and fed her another apple. “Hello, me sweet girl,” he greeted her, but, Erik noticed that his voice was gentle, but not purring as it had been with Thunder or with he himself. It was apparent that Marcus reserved this special purring for the two males close to his heart and his heart made a few happy faster beats because of that knowledge.

Marcus thanked the legionary and Erik could see that the young man adored his superior with all his heart like everyone else he had met here seemed to do. The young legatus took the reins of the mare and guided her to the exit and Erik hesitantly made his way to the gate, too, tugging at the reins. To his relief, Thunder began to move without objections and followed him out of the stable.

He noticed with surprise that Marius and Nurio were waiting for them in the courtyard, Nurio on his black Arab and Mario sitting on a dark-brown crossbreed gelding scratching impatiently with his hoof, accompanied by two legionaries. Erik realized that all of the Romans living here, at least the superiors had to be good riders, judging by the relaxed posture they showed sitting upon their horses. Erik was a little bit disappointed because he had hoped to be alone with Marcus, but, of course, it would have been too dangerous and foolish to leave the camp without any guard, not only because of him, but, because of the Teutons lurking in the shadows of the thick forests waiting for their chance to attack them – just as he had done.

Marcus helped him in Thunder's saddle and the stallion stood still, he seemed to sense that Erik was an unpracticed rider and behaved well due to the order his owner had given him.

Marcus mounted his mare and gave the sign to leave the camp, leading the crossbreed close to Thunder's side. Thunder strode forward and Erik left the camp at Marcus' side for the first time since he had been captured, his longing for his village and the forests surrounding it suddenly overwhelming him.

He sat on his horse, stiff as a poker, staring in front of him, his face impassive and his jaw tense, struggling with the storm deep inside his heart and his mind. Marcus briefly touched his hand and Erik managed a weak smile as he rode through the large gate, leaving the Roman camp and smelling the scent of wilderness and freedom that called out for him almost irresistible.


	16. What Is Freedom?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik left the camp with Marcus by his side. What will he do if he will face the opportunity to run away from the Roman?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the new chapter and Erik might do something really stupid at the end. I guess all of you my dear readers expected something like that and the story wouldn't be really interesting and believable if he didn't right?
> 
> Please, share your thoughts with me, my wonderful audience, leave kudos or comments and tell me if you liked it! Feedback in any way is love and what keeps us authors writing more and more! :-)

Thunder seemed to sense that Erik was an inexperienced rider because he trotted virtuously beside Marcus' crossbreed that behaved much less good and dutiful than the beautiful stallion did. Marcus didn't have any problems with his vivid fox-colored mare though, he was perfectly fine in the saddle, leading his horse with firm and quick pressures of his legs in the direction he wanted to ride, holding the reins only loosely in his calloused hands.

Erik was a brave and tough fighter, but, he had never felt comfortable on the back of a horse and he was stiff and tense during the first hour of riding. Marcus shot him some attentive looks now and then, smiling reassuringly at him and touching his hand from time to time and after a while, the young Teuton relaxed and actually began to enjoy the ride, the surprisingly warm sun and the untamed nature surrounding the large camp. He looked around, curiously, while they rode along the thick walls protecting the camp against the attacks from the Teuton tribes living outside the large fortified city. One of the legionaries rode at the head of their small group, the other at the end while Marcus and Erik rode side by side behind Marius who sat in the saddle relaxed, but with sharp eyes, watching the shadows in the forests carefully, Erik could tell that by the slight tension in his shoulders and his back although he couldn't see his face.

Nurio followed right after them and Erik was a little bit hurt because he knew quite well that Marcus had chosen this order because of him. He only wasn't sure if the Roman legatus had chosen it because he wanted him to be safe because he wasn't an experienced rider; or because he didn't really trust him. Of course, Marcus would have been really stupid if he had trusted him without any question and Marcus was anything but dense and stupid. Erik rode between the camp and Marcus and this could mean either that he wanted to protect him because of his lack of riding skills or that he wanted to make Erik's attempts to break free much harder.

“Both, my beautiful Teuton, both,” Marcus' voice broke in on his musings, his dry amusement clear to hear in his tender tone and Erik flinched and looked at him almost frightened. “P-p-pardon me?” he stammered, not sure what Marcus' statement meant. “You were thinking loud, my sweet Erik and I answered to your question,” Marcus replied with a tender chuckle, using Erik's mother tongue, obviously not troubled about Erik's thoughts.

“Oh.” Erik blushed for the felt hundredth time, biting his lip. Since the previous evening, they had talked to each other only in Latin, even when they had been alone and Erik almost had forgotten that Marcus was capable of speaking his own Teuton language he unconsciously had used as he had murmured to himself. He shot him a quick sidelong glance if Marcus was angry with him because he thought about breaking free, but, Marcus' grin only deepened. “I know that you sometimes think that I'm dense and I might actually be dense when it comes to some things, but, I can assure you that I never thought that you had given up your thoughts about fleeing from me that quickly,” he snorted, apparently torn between his amusement and feeling offended because Erik might consider him as that dense and ignorant.

“So, why did you take me with you, then?” Erik asked curiously and Marcus became serious within the blink of an eye.

“Because I could never expect you to trust me if I don't show you my trust in you, Erik. You will only learn to have faith in me if I'll have the same faith in you. It's your choice. Apart from that, I wanted to have you by my side, because I know that you would feel much more comfortable spending the day here in this beautiful nature instead of being trapped in a small room until I'll return. As I told you before, you are my hostage and my guest, not my prisoner.”

“I am a prisoner, because I can't go where I want to go!” Erik snapped back, confused and angry.

“You are free to go with _me_ wherever you want, Erik. You're only not allowed to go there _without_ me. That's a big difference. If there is a place you want or need to go, you just have to tell me and I will see what I can do. Except for your tribe, I have to admit. If you actually were my prisoner, you would stay in the brig all the time.” Marcus didn't seem to mind his anger, he only smiled before he focused on their ride again as the first sentry tower came in sight, giving Erik the time to think about what he had said.

When they reached the tower, Marcus gave the order to stop and dismount their horses and Erik was glad that he could stretch his legs and walk a little bit. He felt impressed by the massive tower and the thick walls, but, he tried not to show it, stubborn and confused as he was. Marcus climbed the stairs to talk to the guards while Erik stayed by the horses with Marius and Nurio who busied himself with controlling the wall. The legionaries stood on guard duty and Erik felt uncomfortable again, wishing that Marcus would return, soon. Marius standing rather close to him considered him thoughtfully between his wistful glances in Nurio's direction which Nurio returned with the same longing, but, Marcus' second didn't try to talk to him.

Erik was grateful for that because he could see that Marius wasn't reserved because he didn't like him, but because he sensed the young Teuton's mixed feelings and didn't want to add to his confusion. His gaze was friendly and full of understanding for his situation and Erik leaned against the wall, closing his eyes and waiting for Marcus to come back to him, enjoying the sun and the wind on his face more than he had ever done before.

 

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The hours had passed by surprisingly quickly and in the early afternoon, they had checked half of the towers. Marcus had decided to take a rest for some time on a nice clearing and Erik had to admit that he was hungry and glad to be able to sit down on the ground and eat something. Thunder and the other horses nibbled eagerly at the fresh green grass and Erik nibbled eagerly at the fresh bread and the cheese Marcus had offered him.

The horses still wore the saddles, because in rough times like these, this decision could be the thin line between surviving and dying; and Thunder didn't seem to mind that his owner hadn't taken off his saddle, obviously used to feel the weight of it on his back all the time when they were on patrol missions like that. The horses had withdrawn a little bit, because the grass under the trees at the other side of the clearing was thicker and longer and Marcus had let his stallion lead the small herd of horses to this place, knowing that he just had to whistle and his Arab would come to him instantly.

Nurio and Marius sat very close, they didn't touch, being far too much professional to show their affection in public, but their looks at each other told everyone who might watch them that they were crazy in love and Erik envied them a little bit, wishing it would have been that easy for him, as well.

The legionaries sat on the soft grass several meters away from them, talking quietly to each other, shooting brief glances in his direction from time to time and Erik realized surprised and astonished that they envied him for sitting close to their adored commander, obviously wishing that Marcus would gift them with the same attention he showed to the young Teuton.

“Is everything all right, Erik?” Marcus asked and Erik looked up at him, startled. “Uhm yes, thank you. I'm just a little bit tired and my muscles are sore from the ride,” he admitted. Marcus smiled at him. “I'm sorry to hear that. You will get used to riding, soon, I promise you. Plus, I will massage your muscles tonight after our return.”

Erik swallowed by the thought of Marcus' talented fingers massaging his back and his legs. “You can do that?” he inquired, his eagerness showing in his voice very clearly and Marcus chuckled rather pleased. “Oh yes, Rufus taught me. He is a strict teacher when it comes to things like this, as well.”

Erik frowned. “Why should a Roman massage his slave?” he wanted to know, not sure if Marcus was kidding him.

Marcus frowned, shaking his head about Erik's ignorance. “You know why Rufus is my 'slave', Erik,” he told him off in a tender voice. “I know that he told his story to you. You said that you feel stiff and sore after a short ride. Imagine how we feel after being in the saddle all day long for weeks. Do you really believe that a soldier who feels much sorer and stiffer as you already do right now will be able to defend himself properly? Knowing how to massage the soreness and stiffness out of the muscles is very important for us. I massaged Marius, Rufus and my other subordinates countless times because of that. It has nothing to do with 'lust' and 'pleasure', Erik, it is about surviving during a battle.”

Erik thoughtfully chewed on his bread and his cheese. “You have a point,” he finally admitted, although he felt a sharp sting of jealousy as he thought about Marcus massaging anyone else but him. Marcus winked at him with his left eye as if he had read his thoughts and bent forward to him, whispering in his ear: “I already told you that the only other male you have to share me with is Thunder. You don't have to be jealous of anyone else, my sweet Erik.”

Erik blushed again and returned the tender smile shyly, finishing his meal. “I have to relieve myself,” he admitted reluctantly and Marcus stroked his cheek. “Go to the bushes there,” he said, pointing at the bushes next to the horses. “You will have at least a little bit privacy there.”

Erik nodded gratefully and stood up. He had noticed that the Romans seem to have less problems with that, Nurio and Marius had relieved themselves earlier without searching for a hidden place, they had only gone to the side, but, they probably felt like one 'family' or something like that, while he himself was the stranger who had tried to kill their beloved commander.

He went to the bushes and it took him a while before he was relaxed enough to see to his bodily needs. When he eventually was done, he found Thunder standing next to him, snorting silently. Erik reached out and patted the smooth velvet-like nose. “Yes, you're a good boy,” he praised the beautiful stallion in the same purring voice Marcus always used and Thunder pushed his nose into his palm, licking up the salty sweat with his rough tongue.

When Rufus much later after the forthcoming happenings had asked him why he had been so stupid and done what he had done, Erik had not been able to give him a satisfying answer. He hadn't thought about it, just reacted to the sudden and surprising opportunity that had offered itself to him.

Erik didn't think twice as he now grabbed the reins and climbed the stallion who stood there, virtuous and still, just until Erik had mounted him, pressing his heels into the Arab's flanks, clicking with his tongue.

Thunder obeyed, storming forward, away from the clearing and the Roman who had stolen Erik's heart, galloping like the wind. Erik bent down on the long stretched white neck, Thunder's untamed mane whipping in his face. Free – he would be free again was all he could think of until a sharp whistle sounded loudly through the cool air.

Thunder stopped as abruptly as if he had run against a wall, rising on his hind legs, his front hoofs cutting through the air. He neighed loudly, answering his master's call and Erik lost his balance, thrown through the air by the unexpected stop and when his back hit the ground, everything went black.


	17. Pain, Sorrow And Regret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik took Marcus' stallion and tried to escape... That really was a bad idea and Marcus' whistle stopped Erik's attempt to break free.  
> Is Erik heavily injured now? And what will Marcus do? Will he punish him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mused quite some time about what POV I should write in this chapter and I decided to tell Erik's POV again. But, don't worry, you will learn about Marcus' feelings soon enough, as well.  
> My dear audience, thank your for your wonderful continued support and all your lovely feedback, it means the world to me. Please, keep up with it, leave kudos or write comments and tell me if you liked this chapter, as well!

Erik flew through the air and the same air was pressed out of his lungs as he hit the ground very forcefully with his back and his butt first and for one short moment, everything went black because of his interrupted breathing and the sharp pain that shot through every cell of his body.

When he came back to life again, a dark shadow was looming over him and he blinked, confused and frightened, questioning himself for one second what just had happened before his memory came back.

He had tried to escape Marcus on the back of his stallion. He had tried to flee from the young Roman who had captured his heart so easily. He had done the most stupid thing in the world and he swallowed hard, knowing that he deserved every punishment Marcus might consider as appropriate for him.

The shadow knelt down and as Erik's vision was clear enough to detect his surroundings again, he realized that the shadow was indeed the young Roman legatus himself who now bent over him, feeling for possible injuries he might have gotten by his downfall from Thunder. Every single bone in Erik's body hurt and screamed in protest as Erik attempted to move, but, he knew himself well enough to realize that his pride was what had been hurt the most, not his body. His backside felt as if it was on fire and his back was sore and stiff, but nothing was broken and after a few days, he would be fine again, at least if Marcus' punishment didn't include any more physical pain as he already felt right now.

“Lie still, Teuton!” The short order given in an impassive voice made Erik flinch. He didn't know what he had expected, but, not this impersonal way Marcus treated him with after his downfall just as if they hadn't shared this incredible intimacy the night before.

“I'm not injured,” Erik ground out, trying to move again. He wanted to be brave and tough and he also wanted to show that he was able to stand on his own two feet, but, a calloused hand firmly pressed him back on the soft grass again.

“I told you to stay still, Teuton. You better do what I ordered you to do and lie still!” Marcus repeated, his voice still impassive and flat and now, Erik was truly scared. He had expected Marcus to yell at him. He had expected him to be furious and tell him off, to threaten him and tell him in which way he wanted to punish him for his attempt to escape, but, he hadn't expected him to treat him as a stranger, to call him just 'Teuton' and to behave as if Erik didn't mean anything to him, as if he didn't care about him any longer.

“Marcus, please, I'm sorry. I didn't think, I just reacted to the opportunity...” he tried to explain, but, Marcus didn't seem to listen to his miserably pleading, only focusing on checking him and he just moved his limbs and his body without speaking, carefully and slowly, having obviously a lot of experiences with downfalls from horses and how he had to make sure that the one who had fallen down wasn't severely injured.

“Yes, it's apparent that you didn't use your brain,” Marcus finally only stated unmoved after a couple of minutes. “If you had, you would have realized that Thunder was the wrong choice. Maybe, your sore ass will help you finding your common sense again.” He took Erik's head in his hands and gently turned it from one side to the other. “Does this hurt?” he then asked in the same impassive and calm voice he had used ever since Erik's stupid behavior.

“Not much,” Erik mumbled, deeply embarrassed, but, also a little bit defiant, because Marcus' impersonal behavior hurt much more than his back and his pride and being defiant also helped him to fight against his horrible bad conscience and his overwhelming wish to beg and plead for Marcus' forgiveness and his absolution until Marcus smiled at him, reassuring him that he wasn't angry any longer which, of course, wouldn't happen, no matter how much he wished it would.

“Good, your vertebrae don't seem to be dislocated or broken. Can you see me clearly or do you see two of me?” Marcus continued his examination and Erik pursed his lips, his defiance becoming stronger with every second that passed.

“No, luckily, it's only one of you I see and that's already one too much for my liking!” he snapped angrily, not willing to apologize again after the rejection of his first sincere apology.

Marcus smiled grimly. “Very well. We will go back, then. Get up at your feet.” This was an order again and Erik knew better than to disobey this order, although he felt dizzy and dazed. He hauled himself up from the cool grass, unable to hold back the painful groan and gasp that escaped his lips and when he finally had managed to stand up on his feet, he felt as if the world suddenly was spinning and swaying around him. A strong arm wrapped almost tenderly around his shoulder kept him from falling down again and Erik gratefully leaned against the muscular frame of the young Roman who offered him his support despite his annoyance and anger so willingly.

For one moment, they just stood there and Erik closed his eyes and inhaled deeply the familiar and wonderful scent of the remarkable legatus, a mixture of sun and fresh air, sweat, leather metal and horse, plus – most of all, Marcus own and so very special tempting male and musky scent.

Realization what he had done hit him again with all its force and a soft and silent whimper made its way out of his throat and hung in the air for the blink of an eye and gentle fingertips ghosted over the garment of the clothing covering his upper arm.

But, soon enough the precious moment was over and Marcus pushed him away a little bit when he was sure that Erik would be able to stay on his feet. Thunder snorted and Erik opened his eyes, finding the beautiful Arab standing right where he had stopped, shaking his head and snorting again when Erik looked at him, just as if he were amused about Erik's stupidity. Erik bit his lip and turned his head away from the stallion that had shown him who his true master was so unambiguously.

The two young legionaries stood on guard duty, several meters away with their horses, while Marius and Nurio now came to the place where Marcus and Erik were still standing, holding the reins of Nurio's black Arab and Marius' gelding and of the vivid mare Marcus had ridden.

“You will ride Thunder again. But, don't even think of doing this again. You only caught him by surprise. He won't obey your orders again, Teuton,” Marcus told him and Erik bit his lip and nodded his head in a subdued manner. The thought of riding for several hours again after his downfall scared the hell out of him, but, he was a brave and tough fighter and he wouldn't let anyone know how frightened he was. Apart from that, he might not be heavily injured, but, he had no clue how he should endure the long ride with the pain he felt in his butt and his backside and he fought hard against the unknown tears that threatened to roll over his cheeks all of a sudden.

Marcus considered him thoughtfully for one moment and Erik was sure that he had noticed the wetness in his eyes, but, he said nothing, only lifted him up to help him in the saddle. Erik stared in front of him, trying to relax and avoiding Marius' and Nurio's pitiful glances at him. Both of them had stayed silent until now, but Marius bent forward to Marcus and murmured something in his ear before he mounted his horse. Marcus only nodded and mounted his mare, as well, taking Thunder's reins out of Erik's trembling fingers.

He clicked his tongue and pressed his heals into the mare's flanks and the small procession made its way back to the camp, silently and cautiously. Erik blinked against his tears and the former wonderful day didn't seem to be wonderful at all, any longer. The blue sky didn't look blue any more and the twittering of the birds sounded sadly and not cheerfully any more. The sun-rays had lost their golden color and the breeze wasn't soft and friendly, but cool and harsh all of a sudden.

Erik shot hidden wistful glances at Marcus from time to time, but, the blonde Roman never returned his pleading looks, simply ignoring him the entire time. Erik longed so badly for one short friendly look, for a brief smile, but, he knew that he had lost the right to get either of this from Marcus. All he could do was thinking about a way to make it up with the young Roman again, and hopefully he would find that way pretty soon, at least soon enough to prove to Marcus that he had learned his lesson and would never do something like this again.

And maybe, but only maybe, Marcus would be able to forgive him one day and learn to trust him again.


	18. Heartache And Comfort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcus and Erik are on their way back to Mogontiacum after Erik's stupid attempt to break free. Has he really learned his lesson? And what will Marcus do? Will he punish him the hard way?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Actually, I wanted to write this chapter only with Marcus' POV, but, of course, it went another way than I had planed. So, you have both POVs.  
> I'm curious what you think about, please let me know!  
> And thank you so much again for all your love and support, the kudos and comments, please, keep up with them if you like the new chapter, as well!

Marcus rode beside Erik, his face stern and impassive, his hand holding Thunder's reins in a firm grip. But, his heart ached and he struggled hard not to show his sorrow, disappointment and helpless anger.

Marcus hadn't been that stupid to think that Erik had given up his thoughts about escaping from him, but, that the young Teuton had tried to break free just when Marcus had shown him his trust, offering him the privacy he needed to see to his bodily needs had hurt him more that he wanted to admit, even to himself. He hadn't been that disappointed if Erik had attempted to flee during their ride or while Marcus had checked the sentry towers. But, to repay him for his trust and understanding this way was simple unbearable.

Marcus knew that Erik was in great pain and when he had seen him lying unconscious on the ground, Marcus had been halfway out of his mind with fear that the fall-down had hurt him seriously, but, he couldn't do anything to make him feel better right now during their ride. They needed to reach the safety of the camp's walls as fast as possible, because Erik wasn't in the state to defend himself properly in case any other Teuton band chose this moment for an attack without warning and Marcus wanted him to be safe and healthy, no matter how angry and hurt he might be at the moment.

The young Roman rode by the young Teuton's side never looking at him, although he could feel Erik's hidden pleading glances, but, he knew that he would become weak and stop their ride to take him in his arms and assure him that everything would be all right again and he simply couldn't do this in front of his escort. Marius and Nurio certainly would have understood him, but, the two young legionaries were a totally different kind of matter. They wouldn't understand why their admired commander showed his affection for an enemy in public, an enemy who had wanted to kill him and steal his beloved stallion from him to break free instead of punishing him properly for his betrayal and Marcus was very aware of the fact that the admiration and adoration every single man in Mogontiacum felt for him could change into hate and fury very quickly and that he could cause a mutiny if he behaved the way his heart wanted him to behave.

And so, he rode beside the Mattiacer who was in obvious pain, with a strict and unmoved face, never looking at him while his heart cried for what he had lost and for what he craved for so badly.

In the sky above them, the birds were singing, celebrating the arrival of the spring and praising the warming rays of the golden sun, but, in Marcus Retus' heart a dark storm was raging and his own sun had lost the battle against the black clouds that darkened his mood and his feelings ever since a young Teuton prince had betrayed his faith in him.

 

\-------------------------------------------------

 

Erik had expected to be thrown into a dark prison cell or at least to be trapped in the small room where he had spent his first night again, but, when they finally had arrived the camp and Marcus' villa, Marius and Nurio had escorted him to Marcus' personal rooms. He had been astonished and had felt the small hope that Marcus had forgiven him, until Marius had come back with a long chain, closing one end of it with an iron shackle around his ankle and locking the other side to an iron ring in the wall. He hadn't looked at Erik while he had done it, but Erik, who sat on the bed, stunned and shocked, had noticed the discomfort Marcus' second felt as he did so.

“Why doesn't he do it himself?” Erik eventually was able to croak out, deeply hurt and ashamed, because now, he was really a prisoner. A prisoner who had no rights any longer. Marcus surely would come later and force himself upon him, taking him without mercy against his will and Erik felt sick to his stomach all of a sudden. “Or is he too cowardly to actually do it himself?”

Now, the brunette looked up, his face as impassive as Marcus' face had been during the ride. “You better think twice the next time before you open your mouth again, insulting my commander, Teuton,” Marius said in a flat voice. “You might have not noticed it, because _you_ have been too selfish and too busied with your oh so hurting backside, but, your stupid attempt to break free just the same moment when Marcus had showed you how much he had trusted you has hurt Thunder. He was laming the last three miles and Marcus is with his horse and tries to bring back in order what you messed up when you were too cowardly to talk to the man who has shown you only mercy, goodwill and love. I actually asked him to not punish you too hard, but, one thing I can tell you, Mattiacer: If you ever dare insulting my commander and my best friend again, then I will punish you myself!” the tribunus growled with only barely hidden fury, before he checked the shackle and the chain one last time, turning around and leaving the room without one look back.

Erik sat there with balled fists, fighting against the tears that threatened to fall. By all Teuton Gods, what had he done?

 

\---------------------------------------------------------

 

Erik slowly came to again, blinking against the dazed feeling of having been sound asleep only seconds before. He didn't know what had waken him up, but, when he saw Rufus standing beside the bed, he realized that it must had been the sound of the door opening and closing again that had disturbed his restless slumber.

After Marius had left him, he had curled himself up on the bed into a small ball, crying silently until the slumber of exhaustion had claimed him. He tried to sit up, but, Rufus pressed him back on the mattress again, almost gently.

“Lay still, Erik. I need to check your injuries,” he ordered and Erik obeyed without any protest, deeply grateful that at least a slave still called him by his birth name. Rufus sat down on the edge of the bed, placing some jars and bandages on the bedside table before he carefully began to remove Erik's clothes. Erik tensed, but Rufus didn't hesitate, he only looked at the young Teuton, his face calm and with a reassuring expression.

“I have no wish to harm you, Erik. Nor will I punish you. I can't check your injuries while you're still dressed. That's all. I already saw you naked, remember. You really don't have to be ashamed of your body, young Teuton,” the red-haired man said and Erik blushed, remembering their last talk. The slave now had called him 'Teuton', as well, but, to Erik's surprise, it hadn't hurt him the way it had hurt him when Marcus and Marius had called him that way, because Rufus' voice had been friendly and kind.

“You shall prepare me for him, right?” he hissed, helplessly. “You have to make sure that he can take me without getting dirty.” His voice was trembling, but, Erik wasn't sure if he feared their next encounter or craved for it.

Rufus stopped in his movements, considering Erik thoughtfully. “My master won't come to you tonight, Erik. To be honest, I'm not sure if he will see to you tomorrow. He will stay in the guest quarters for the next days.”

Erik stared at Rufus with his mouth hanging open. “W-w-w-what?” he stammered. He had been so sure that Marcus would come to him and punish him and the thought of not seeing the young legatus during the next days, not being able to apologize to him again scared him more than the thought of being taken roughly.

“B-b-but, he has to come to me, please, Rufus, I need to talk to him!” he pleaded and new tears sprang from his eyes, rolling down over his pale cheeks like a waterfall. He began to sob uncontrollably and when Rufus gently pulled him up, taking him in his arms and rocking him through the storm of his sorrow, he wrapped his arms around the elder man's neck and buried his face on his fragrant neck, crying desperately his heart out. The Roman's personal slave held him tight, stroking his back and his hair, whispering calming words into his ear and after a long time, Erik slowly regained his self-control back at least a little bit, and the heartbreaking sobs subsided to a silent hiccup and sad sniffs.

“Please, I need to talk to him, Rufus,” he whispered brokenly, his shaky voice muffled by Rufus now tears-soaked tunic, and Rufus softly pressed his lips on Erik's golden-brown hair like mother would do to console and soothe her little child.

“I know, Erik. But, you have to give him some time. You have no idea how much you actually hurt him. The truth is that nobody else could ever hurt him like you did, young prince. He will talk to you, but, he has to lick his wounds a little bit and win back his self-control. Give him one day or two and then, he will be able to listen to you, I'm sure about that. He cares for you, dearly, Erik.”

“I didn't mean to hurt him. I didn't mean to hurt Thunder. Will he be fine again?” Erik whined and Rufus nodded his head, Erik felt his clean-shaven cheek grazing his ear as he moved his head.

“Yes, Thunder will be fine again. My master knows a lot about horses and about the best treatments for such injuries. Thunder has to stay in his box for a few days and then, he will be well again. But, he was rather upset after the happenings and Marcus stayed with him for a few hours until he had calmed down. He didn't want to risk any further injury because of Thunder's nervousness.”

Erik felt another wave of guilt and shame washing over him and this time, he couldn't fight against the nausea that overwhelmed him. He struggled to get up and rushed into the restroom with his hand pressed against his mouth, reaching the toilet just in time when his stomach turned, getting rid of its contents. He retched heavily, gasping for air between the painful cramps and groaning when the room started to spin around him.

Rufus knelt down beside him, a tower of strength in the chaos that had become his life, holding him until the horrible nausea eventually faded. “Hush, young prince, hush,” he murmured, wiping his face with a wet cloth. Erik was grateful for the water in the toilet that washed away the vomit and when Rufus took him in his arms, carrying him back into the bedroom, he laid his head on his shoulder, glad that the spinning had stopped. It was only then when he realized that the chain was long enough to allow him moving to every place in Marcus' room. The only place where he couldn't go was outside the quarters.

“Why didn't he throw me into a prison cell?” he asked, his teeth chattering loudly against each other.

Rufus gently laid him down on the mattress again, pulling the covers over him. He took off his shoes and lay beside him, taking him in his arms once more. When Erik tensed, he smiled, stroking his cheeks. “I would never even think of cheating on my master, Erik. I only want to warm you. Sharing our body-heat is the best way to keep you warm. You have a shock and probably a mild concussion and you have to stay warm.” Erik blushed, but then, he relaxed and snuggled close to the red-haired Celt, seeking warmth and shelter.

Rufus wrapped his arms firmly around him, rubbing soothing circles on his back. “My master would never do that, although he risks a lot with the special way he treats you. His legionaries only accept it because they know that you are a prince and his personal hostage. If you weren't the son of the Mattiacer's chief, he would have had no other chance than to punish you the hard way. But, he had to lay you in chains, Erik. Marius therefore locked the chains himself and made sure that everyone learned about you being in chains now, because otherwise, Marcus would have lost his face and the whole camp would be in acute danger now because of a possible mutiny. He sent me to take care of you, because I'm the only one he trusts that much to leave me alone with you. I will stay with you and you don't have to fear that someone will come and hurt you. But, you're not allowed to leave these quarters until he tells you otherwise. You really screwed it up, young prince. It's not only your punishment, but also a precaution to keep you safe and unharmed.”

Erik bit his lip, deeply ashamed as the realization what he had done and what Marcus had risked just to make his captivity as bearable as possible hit him with all its force. He shivered and Rufus' arms around him tightened until the heavy shivers wrecking him from head to toe vanished again.

“I'm so sorry!” was all he could grind out and Rufus sighed. “I know, Erik, I know. Try to sleep a little bit. You're close to a breakdown. I will stay with you and see to your injuries later. Sleep is much more important right now than smearing ointment on your bruises.”

Erik opened his mouth to protest, but then, he just closed his eyes, grateful for the strong arms holding him and the warm body close to his own cold and aching one. He would sleep and tomorrow, he would find a way to explain himself to Marcus and show him that he had learned his lesson. Marcus had asked him to trust him and Erik would never betray Marcus again and prove to him that he was truly trustworthy, tomorrow, he would...

The young Teuton let out one single silent sob as he fell asleep again, not hearing the answering sigh that came from the guest quarters where a young Roman legatus tossed and turned in his own cold and lonely bed, trying to get some hours of peaceful sleep himself. When the young Roman finally did, the dawn was breaking, announcing another beautiful and sunny spring-day that hopefully would be better than the last day had been.


	19. Realizations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik had spent the night with Rufus taking care of him and Marcus had spent the night in the guest quarters. Will he stay away from the Teuton or will he come to him and talk to him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This probably has to be considered as a filler chapter again, but, it is needed for the next one. Hopefully, it won't take a week again until I can update the next, but, I'm glad that Marcus agreed to talk to Erik and actually came to him. We will see in the next chapter if Erik is able to make it up with him...  
> As always thank you for your wonderful support and please, leave kudos and comments if you liked the new chapter! Feedback is very much appreciated.

Marcus woke up after few hours again and he could tell by the dazed feeling and the exhaustion he still felt that his slumber had been restless and disturbed instead of deep and refreshing. Marcus normally was a good early riser, but this morning, he needed three attempts to keep his eyes open.

For a while, he simply lay there in the bed of the guest quarters, staring at the white ceiling without really seeing something, listening inwardly and counting the muscles and bones that were hurting. When he realized that he would have less to count if he actually counted the muscles and bones that didn't hurt, he gave up his tries, wondering why a few hours of a slow ride had left him that aching and sore. Marcus was used to spent whole days in the saddle and the ride yesterday shouldn't have strained him that much.

The memory of the happenings of the previous day hit him with such force that he groaned, curling himself up into a small ball and he bit his lips hard to keep himself from crying. Not the ride had strained him that much, but, what had happened after wards. After the Teuton's betrayal, they had made their way home and Marcus had been halfway out of his mind with his worries about the young prince's well-being. The Mattiacer had sat in the saddle upright and proudly, but, with his lips pressed to a thin line and his hand pressing against his head now and then and Marcus' heart and soul had ached because he was the one being responsible for letting him ride back to the camp without any rest and causing him more pain.

The fact that Thunder had begun to lame during the last few miles had added to his guilt and his concerns and Marcus had spent the rest of the day with his stallion who had been not only in great pain because of his strained ankle, but also upset because the human male his beloved master cared so much about had caused so much trouble. Marcus didn't know how long he had stood beside his beautiful Arab, combing and stroking him after he had seen to his hurting ankle, murmuring gentle words into his nervously twitching ears.

He had spilled his entire sorrow and hurt feelings to his horse and Thunder had listened to him with attentive ears, snorting and neighing and strange as it was, Thunder had only calmed down after Marcus had promised him to go to the young Teuton and speak to him. After that promise, he had begun to nibble from the fresh hay and nodded his head as if he wanted to praise the Roman legatus for his decision.

Marcus though had been too exhausted and confused to go straight to his rooms and talk to him, instead he had decided to sleep in the guest quarters and wait until the next morning. The Roman knew quite well that he had to be very careful, because a lot of his subordinates didn't understand his behavior towards the 'barbarian' who had tried to kill him. To be honest, he didn't understand it himself sometimes, he only knew that the defiant young Teuton prince meant more to him than anybody else had ever meant to him.

Marcus sighed. It was needless to beat around the bush. He loved Erik. He loved him with all his heart and nothing would ever change that. He was hurt and disappointed, but, his love for Erik hadn't changed and he couldn't stay away from him for much longer. He had to find out why Erik had tried to escape and after that, he could decide how he would treat him in the future. Marius would stand by his side and back up his decision no matter what, and Marcus was pretty sure that Matteus and Severus would support him, as well. He wasn't so sure about Nurio, but, the new centurio probably would accept what Marius wanted. The legionaries were the ones who caused him quite a headache, because for most of them, Erik wasn't an important prince of a big tribe, but, only a barbarian who had wanted to kill their beloved Commander.

But, he would deal with that when he had to and now, the most important thing was to find out why Erik had betrayed his trust in that cruel way. A silent knock on the door broke in on his musings and he flinched startled, before he sat up with another painful groan. He would need one of Rufus' wonderful massages to let him endure the day and he had to get up to see to some things before he could talk to Erik. When the door opened, he smiled as he saw Antonia emerging in the door-frame.

He waved friendly at her and the young woman closed the door again and crossed to room with firm steps. She tried to bow before her beloved master, but, Marcus signed at her, eager to learn what news she had to tell him. He had ordered her to take care of Erik and Rufus because he hadn't wanted to leave Erik alone and Antonia was as trustworthy as his personal slave. Marcus knew that he could count on her and trust her and he simply patted on the bed to make her sit down.

Antonia obeyed, her hands flying through the air as she signed to him what he wanted to know so badly. Marcus watched her signs, carefully.

“Rufus stayed with Erik the entire evening as I had told him?” he signed back and Antonia nodded again, making few more signs.

“Erik was sick?” Marcus frowned, deeply worried, but, Antonia's smile and her signs calmed him down again. “Rufus thinks that it was more because of Erik's bad conscience and not because of the concussion he probably has?” he made sure and Antonia's hands flew through the air again.

“Ah, he wants to talk to me? He should have thought earlier about talking to me!” Marcus growled, as some of his anger returned after he had learned with relief that Erik was well and not severely injured. Antonia laid her hand upon his arm and looked at him with understanding eyes, making more signs.

“So, Rufus also thinks that I should come and talk to him. Fair enough. But, I need a bath and something to eat first, Antonia. Rufus has to stay with the prince, so would you please see to that?” he signed to her and the young female slave beamed at him and stood up from the bed, bowing before her master. Marcus watched her leave and finally hauled himself up from the bed. He would go to his quarters and talk to the young Teuton who had stolen his heart that easily. After a hearty breakfast and a warm bath to ease the pain in his muscles, he hopefully would be prepared enough to face the one who meant more to him than anything else in the whole wide world the one who had hurt him so much.

And if Erik truly could explain himself and what he had done to him then maybe, they would find a way to learn to trust each other again. It was only a maybe, but sometimes, the maybes could change the world...

 

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Erik sat on the bed, staring at the chain connecting his foot with the wall with weary and red eyes while Rufus gently smeared some ointment on his bruises and scratches covering his back. He had slept like a log due to his exhaustion, but, when he had woken up, he had felt neither well-rested nor less pain. His back and his butt hurt like hell and he had a dull headache making his eyes sensitive to light and his ears sensitive to loud noise and his stomach was knotted and he still felt slightly sick. Of course, he knew that this was more because of his heartache and his bad conscience, but, he hadn't been able to eat anything, had only drank the herbal tea the young deaf female slave had brought earlier. Rufus had signed with her but, he had refused to tell him what he had 'said' to her.

Erik could only hope that Marcus would come to him and let him explain everything and maybe give him another chance to prove himself and make up for his stupid attempt to flee and steal his wonderful horse.

Erik hadn't wanted to admit it to himself, but, the previous evening, the realization of what he truly felt for the young Roman legatus had hit him with all its force. He loved Marcus Retus. He loved him with all his heart and he would do everything he could to win back his trust and prove to him that he would never ever betray him again. Erik had learned his lesson and all he wanted to do was to apologize to the man he loved so much.

“I'm such a fool!” he groaned and Rufus behind him snorted in agreement. “Yes, you are, young prince,” he confirmed what Erik already knew, but, his voice didn't sound angry, only gently and understandingly.

The red-haired Celt had held him the entire night, kept him warm and given him the comfort he had needed so badly and Erik had been deeply grateful for his calming and soothing presence. His hands upon his back were firm, but soft, and his treatment seemed to help, because Erik could move now without the horrible sharp pain shooting through his back all of the time.

“I – I love...” Erik stammered, but, Rufus carefully turned around to look at him. “I know, young prince. But, he should be the first to hear these words from you, not me. So please, keep them inside until he is there to listen to you,” he said seriously and Erik swallowed, feeling a new wave of despair washing over him.

“But, what if he won't come to me? What shall I do then?” he asked, new tears making his eyes wet. Rufus considered him with a sigh and a shaking of his head.

“Erik, Erik, what shall I do with you? My master proved so many times to you that you can trust him. You really should have more faith in him. Of course, he will come to you,” the young slave said with calm confidence in his gentle voice.

“Yes, you should listen to Rufus, Teuton. He always tells the truth!” a sudden voice came from the door and Erik's head snapped around to stare at the man leaning in the door-frame with his arms crossed before his chest and an impassive mask on his handsome features.

Marcus was there. Marcus had really come to him. Erik swallowed audibly and all he could do was staring at the beautiful Roman legatus who now slowly closed the door and crossed the room.

Erik swallowed again, stunned and speechless, overwhelmed by his love for the remarkable young Roman.

Marcus was there. He had come to listen to him, but right now, Erik didn't know what to say to him.  
He looked in his beautiful eyes watching him with an unreadable expression and he was only vaguely aware of Rufus leaving the quarters and closing the door behind him.

The young Teuton prince just stared at the man who had become his destiny, the love of his life, unable to take his eyes from him and then, he he simply burst out with the first thing that came into his mind:

“I love you Marcus. Please, I love you so!”


	20. Please, Forgive Me!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcus finally came to Erik and Erik has told him that he love him. Will Marcus forgive him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to update this story today because from tomorrow on I will have less time to write and I was eager to reunite my two beloved boys.  
> I want to say thank you to all of you for your wonderful support. I'm amazed that you love my Roman and Teuton crossover that much. Please keep on with your wonderful support and let me know if you like the new chapter, as well!
> 
> Enjoy reading about their passionate reunion.

“I love you, Marcus. Please, I love you so!”

Erik's words echoed in the room and all Marcus could do was staring at the young Teuton prince who now slipped from the bed, kneeling down before him. Marcus hadn't awaited that. He had expected Erik to be defiant again, unaware of his betrayal, or maybe subdued if he actually had learned his lesson, but, he really hadn't expected this complete submission, the proud young prince kneeling before him and declaring his love for him.

He had been determined to stay reserved and mistrustfully, to not show his love and his deeply hurt feelings, but, as he saw the Mattiacer now kneeling at his feet, looking up at him with so much love and devotion, his anger, his mistrust and everything else faded almost instantly, leaving only the overwhelming urge to kiss him, bury himself deep inside the young fighter and never let go of him again.

The next thing he knew was him pulling Erik onto his feet rather roughly, growling: “Don't kneel before me, you're not a slave!” and silencing Erik's startled cry with his hot and hungry mouth.

After the first second of surprise and fear, Erik responded to his kiss as desperately as Marcus himself felt, his arms flinging around the Roman legatus as if he were his life-line, and Marcus could taste a little bit blood as their teeth clattered against each other in their rough kiss. He licked it up from Erik's smooth bottom lip before his tongue slipped into Erik's mouth, making clear that the Roman considered it as his own rightful territory. Erik gave way to the cheeky conqueror, surrendering unquestioningly to the elder man, and Marcus growled deep in his throat, ripping impatiently the white tunic from Erik's slim body. His own tunic followed the white shreds of what had covered Erik's body only seconds before and then, he pressed the Teuton onto the mattress of his bed, crushing him with his full weight. Erik arched and wriggled to free his hands and when he had managed to snake them around Marcus' back, he dug his nails into his skin and pulled him even closer.

Marcus could feel Erik's hard cock rubbing against his own painfully aroused member and he moaned into the kiss, moving his hips to get more friction while searching for the small bottle he needed to do what both of them craved so badly. Marcus had never wanted – needed – anything as much as he needed to sheathe himself into Erik's tight heat right now. He had always been proud of being level-headed and reasonable, no matter what had come up his way, but, he was sure that he would die if he couldn't take the young man lying trembling in his arms here and now.

“Need you, Erik,” he ground out as he pulled away from the brunette's bruised lips to get some air back into his lungs. “Need to take you!”

Erik whimpered pleadingly, a silent, needy sound, before he crashed their lips together again, moaning a strangled: “Need you, too!”

Marcus finally had found what he had been looking for and he opened the bottle with the oil Rufus had left them, slicking his fingers up with the liquid and shifting his weight to push one digit deep inside the willing body. His tongue imitated the movements of his finger, thrusting into the tempting mouth that was sweeter than the peaches Marcus loved so much and more addicting than the finest wine he had ever tasted.  
Erik tasted of hunger and love and so much more and Marcus held his head in place with his other hand while he kissed him, claiming and possessing his mouth like he had never even tried to kiss someone, massaging the sweet spot he had found easily with his finger until Erik shivered helplessly underneath him. It didn't take long until Marcus pulled out to add a second finger and Erik obeyed immediately as he demanded access to his secret core again, spreading his legs as wide as he could, exposing himself to the other man. Marcus drew back from Erik's swollen lips, looking down at his body to watch his fingers disappear into Erik's most secret part. The younger one lay there in all his naked glory, his smooth skin covered with a thin layer of sweat, glistening in the day light and his gorgeous cock, deep red and fully aroused strained proudly into the air, drops of creamy pre-come leaking out of the slit and slowly rolling down on the hard shaft.

His own steel-hard spear was wet with arousal, too and Marcus knew that he had to make sure that Erik would be as well-prepared as he could prepare him because he certainly wouldn't last long when the tight heat of the younger one finally enclosed him. He glided down on his body, his lips leaving passionate kisses on his heated skin on his way down until he reached the one part proving that Erik was pure male so clearly.

Marcus licked over the throbbing shaft, taking in the Teuton's wonderful taste and before the young man even knew what happened to him Marcus had swallowed his impressive length, bobbing his head up and down on it with hollowed cheeks. Erik cried out, shocked and aroused, his hips thrusting into the wet and hot mouth pleasuring him so much to their own will. Marcus growled contentedly around the wonderful cock, his tongue swirling over the sensitive slit and Erik rewarded him with another thick drop of delicious liquid. He quickly added a third finger without Erik even noticing it and he met no resistance as Erik's pulsing hole swallowed his digits eagerly.

Erik panted and moaned as Marcus continued to stimulate him with his mouth and his fingers, brushing over his sensitive knob with every thrust and soon, the Mattiacer began to tremble with the effort to hold back.

“Marcus, please, stop, I'm close!” he sobbed and Marcus raised his head from, his mouth making a loud and wet sound as the hard member slipped out of it. “Why should I stop if you're close?” he inquired hoarsely, his with desire and passion dark eyes watching the young man closely. “Don't you want to come, Erik?”

Erik's eyes showed all of his desire, longing and need as he looked at him. “Not like this, Marcus. Please, I need to feel you inside me. Marcus, please, take me, I love you...” he whimpered and Marcus felt the rest of his anger fade away.

He smiled at him, letting Erik see all of his own love for the young prince. “I love you, too, Erik,” he finally admitted, taking him in his arms and kissing him, tenderly and gently. “I need to be inside you, too, love.”

Erik wrapped his arms around him while Marcus lined himself up with shaky hands, pulling at his head to kiss him again and then, Marcus covered him with his strong body, heated flesh gliding along sweaty skin adding to the sensation the kiss aroused in both of them. Marcus slowly pushed in, clinging to the last shreds of his self-control to not hurt the man he loved so much while he carefully breached the tight muscle of Erik's puckered entrance, remembering that it was only the second time for the younger one.

Erik though wasn't as patient as the young Roman, when Marcus continued to slowly inch his way in, he moaned, arching his back and pulling forcefully at Marcus' butt until he was buried inside him balls-deep. “By Jupiter, Erik!” Marcus groaned, unable to hold back any longer. Erik was so tight and so hot, his walls clenching around him and when Erik wrapped his long legs around his waist, digging his heels into his ass, he began to move, pounding into his ardent lover in a punishing rhythm, chasing desperately his release. Erik met his thrusts with unrestrained passion, arching his hips violently and urging the Roman to move even faster.

“Love you, love you so,” he gasped out with every thrust and Marcus moaned, snaking his hand between their sweat-slick bodies. “Love you, too, love you, Erik!” he croaked out between his moans, stroking Erik's slippery cock in time to his passionate lovemaking.

They moved against each other, moaning and gasping and then, the overwhelming sensations became too much. Erik was the first who lost his battle, reaching the height of passion with the next hit against his sweet spot and he cried out his love and his ecstasy, his nails scratching over Marcus' back as he came hard, spilling his hot release all over Marcus' fingers and their abdomens.

Marcus followed him over the edge, muffling his loud cry of ecstasy and satisfaction on Erik's fragrant throat. He pumped his seed in hot and fast jets into his shivering lover as he felt Erik's walls clenching around him, milking Marcus' pleasure from him with his own forceful orgasm.

They held each other close, shuddering together through their throes of passion, whispering incoherent words of love and devotion into their ears.

When it was finally over, they lay panting on the bed and it was only then when Marcus realized that Erik was still tied to the wall with a chain – and that Marius still had the key for the chain.

Marcus tensed, staring at the chain with horror. He had made love with his sweet Erik while he had been tied to the wall like a hostage or a slave. He swallowed hard, not able to look the Teuton in the eyes. Marcus had been so overwhelmed because of Erik's declaration of love that he had forgotten everything else, even that Erik actually was his hostage. But, to consider him as his hostage and to see the result of Erik's behavior and his own decision to keep him as his hostage were two entirely different kind of matters.

“I'm sorry, Erik, by Jupiter – I'm so so sorry!” he stammered, but, Erik just pulled him down again, stroking his face, smiling lovingly at him.

“It's okay, Marcus, hush, it's okay. I know why you had to do this. Marius has had no other choice than to tie me with the chain. Rufus explained everything to me. He told me how much I endangered the whole camp. You don't have to apologize, my beloved Roman. I am the one who has to apologize. I'm so sorry, Marcus. I didn't mean to betray you. I didn't mean to take your horse and leave you. It was like a reflex – I saw Thunder standing there and my only thought was that I had to rescue my sister...” his voice trailed off and Marcus pulled him close, rocking him and stroking tenderly his back and his hair as the younger one began to cry.

Marcus pulled the covers over their bodies and Erik snuggled close to him, crying desperately on his shoulder. “Please, forgive me, Marcus. I will never betray your trust again. Please, I love you!” he sobbed and Marcus kissed his hair, fighting against his own tears.

“Hush, love, I'm not angry with you any longer. I believe you, Erik. Please, calm down, love. I love you, too...” he murmured again and again until the Teuton's sobs finally faded to a silent hiccup and sniffing.

Marcus gently lifted his chin up to look into the wonderful hazel-green eyes now red and lusterless because of his sorrow and his grief. “Tell me about your sister,” he said encouragingly, wiping away one single tear rolling down on the softly rounded cheek. “Tell me what happened to her.”

Erik drew in a shaky breath and curled himself up in Marcus' embrace, seeking comfort and warmth. Marcus wrapped his arms firmly around the brunette, not caring about the sticky wetness still covering their abdomens. They could clean up later, Erik finally trusting him and telling him why he had wanted to break free was much more important.

“Lioba, my sister wanted to collect some herbals with some of the other women of our tribe two months ago. When they didn't came back, we searched for them and when we found the other ones, all the three of them severely hurt and unconscious, my sister wasn't amongst them and we found a Roman helmet and some other things that told us that she had been kidnapped by – Romans...”

Erik suppressed his new tears as his voice broke and Marcus kissed him soothingly while he thought about what Erik had told him. The next Roman camp was Augusta Treverorum and Marcus had to admit that he didn't know the legions deployed there. But, something about Erik's story bothered him, he only wasn't sure what it was.

Erik had calmed down again and looked pleadingly at him. “Marcus, please, I need to search her, to find her... I will come back to you, I promise you, but, please, let me go and search for her!” he begged.

Marcus kissed him, looking him deep in the eyes. “No, Erik, I won't let you go,” he said and Erik tensed, his eyes filling with new tears.

“But, Marcus, I need to find her, please, you must understand...” he cried out, sobbing again.

Marcus smiled melancholy. “I do understand you, Erik. But, you won't go alone. _We_ will search for your sister. We will find her together.”


	21. Morning Joys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik and Marcus are reunited and confessed their love to each other. Erik also told Marcus about his sister. Marius and Nurio in the meantime enjoy some quality time after the previous day and its occurences...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to apologize for:  
> a) the late update and  
> b) for not properly going on with the plot. I don't know where this chapter has come from.  
> I actually wanted to update earlier and write about the visit of Erik's father, but, my boys had other plans and Marius and Nurio have complained loudly about having been abandoned for quite some time, so I had to make up with them for this.  
> Real Life is a hardship at the moment and I've been sick the whole week, therefore and because of my SGA-WIPs I have to update, as well, my writing has to slow down a little bit.  
> Hopefully, you will stay tuned and be patient with me, nonetheless.
> 
> Enjoy the new chapter and please, let me know if you liked it, it is rather - hm - explict and a little bit rough, but, my Romans seem to like it this way...  
> As always thank you so much for your wonderful support, your comments and kudos, please keep up your great feedback!

Erik looked at Marcus in awe and wonder. “You will come with me?” he finally whispered, apparently not sure if he had heard right or if it had only been his imagination and his strong wish that Marcus would do that for him.

Marcus caressed his cheek. “Of course, I will come with you,” he assured his young lover gently. To tell the truth, from what Erik had told him, he highly doubted that Lioba had been kidnapped by any other Romans, Marcus had more the suspicion that Erik's sister had been taken by other Teutons, but, this was not the right moment to discuss that topic, because their new trust and peace was still fragile, in spite of their declarations of love, and Marcus wouldn't risk anything that could endanger their newly built truce.

“But, you are needed here,” Erik objected only halfheartedly, and Marcus could see that the young Mattiacer longed for Marcus to come with him. “You have responsibilities here and your men surely will mind if you leave them just to search for a young female Teuton...” Erik swallowed and his voice trailed off, as he lowered his gaze to not let his longing for Marcus to come with him show in his eyes.

Marcus smiled at Erik's naivety. “I'm here to grant peace and safety, Erik and I will do everything that's necessary to reach that goal. Your sister isn't only a young female Teuton, but a princess like you are a prince, and investigating the strange circumstances of her disappearance is of serious interest for my camp and all Romans living here. After all, her kidnapping has caused you to attack me and will cause further incidents and attacks by other Mattiacers, as well. If searching for your sister and hopefully finding her alive and unharmed will help me negotiate a truce and maybe even a peace treaty with your tribe, then, it will be worth the cost, no matter what. Apart from that, it is a very delicate matter and I can't send another Roman, because if she is really the personal slave of another Roman leader in another camp, then I will be the only one with enough power to free her without having to make a deal by offering another 'appropriate' slave to them.”

Erik chewed on his bottom lip. “If you put it that way...” he glanced at Marcus from underneath his eyelashes. “So, your love and your wish to always have me by your side and in your bed has nothing to do with it?” he asked cunningly, trying to sound innocent and disappointed.

Marcus chuckled and gently slapped Erik's naked backside. “Ouch!” The young Teuton complained. “I'm not a child that has to be spanked!”

Marcus chuckled again. He had well noticed Erik's delighted shiver and slapped the other butt-cheek, as well to confirm his suspicion that Erik had found the smacking arousing. “Geez, ouch, don't do that!” Erik groused, his softly rounded cheeks flushed with new arousal, unable to suppress another shiver.

“Then stop behaving like a stupid child,” Marcus only stated, unmoved. “First, you know quite well that I also don't want to be without you and second, you like that, so stop pretending you don't, because otherwise, I will give you a proper spanking until you'll admit that you do like to be spanked by me!”

Erik scowled at him, but, when Marcus grabbed him, kissing him soundly on his pouting lips, he melted instantly against the strong body, returning the kiss with the same eagerness. The knock on the door caught both of them off guard and Marcus sighed and sat up, covering his nudity with the blanket. He had given the order to not be disturbed and the knock on the door could only mean that something unexpected seriously had happened.

“Come in!” he shouted and the door opened, revealing Rufus standing in the doorway. Erik had grabbed the other cover and thrown it over his body, but, Marcus could see that he relaxed when he saw that it was Rufus and not somebody else wanting to come in.  
Rufus smiled regretfully and bowed his head after closing the door behind him.

“I'm so sorry that I have to disturb you, my master,” he apologized. “But, Erik's father has arrived. He is waiting outside the camp and wants to speak to you.”

 

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Marius woke up to the sensation of soft lips wandering over his sleep-warm neck, rather sharp teeth grazing over his vulnerable throat, inflicting just the right amount of threat in their tender exploration, and strong calloused hands used to hold a wild horse's reins or lethal weapons gliding possessively over his naked abdomen down to the unmistakable proof that he was pure male.

A sleepy and contend moan fled from his lips as he wriggled back to rub his butt against the impressive erect cock of the other male lying close behind him in an instinctive respond to the lazy caresses that had awoken him, drawing a throaty and very pleased chuckle from his bedmate.

The night before, both of them had been too busy with the aftermath of the Mattiacer's stupid attempt to break free, dealing with the questions of the legionaries who didn't understand why the Teuton hadn't been thrown in a prison cell after a proper punishment, and when Marius finally had sunk down on his bed, totally exhausted, he had been too tired to do anything else than instantly fall asleep in his lover's arms.

This morning, he felt refreshed from a good undisturbed night's sleep and could enjoy the skillful attempts of his black-haired lover to seduce him much better and he wriggled again, rubbing his ass needily against the hard spear he wanted to feel deep inside his secret core.

One calloused hand wrapped itself around his own silk-covered weapon, all iron hardness packed in smooth velvet skin, now slippery with the creamy drops of anticipation his seducer had milked from him.

“Hm, someone's greedy,” a dark voice purred next to his ear, pulling happy shivers from him and Marius moaned again, trying to turn around to look his beautiful lover in his brown eyes.

“Oh no, I have you right in the position I want you to have,” Nurio growled, pressing one hand between his shoulder-blades to keep him from turning. When the young centurio was sure that Marius would stay lying on his side, he removed his hand, kissing his way down on his back until he reached his exposed backside. He pulled on Marius' hips until the tribunus knelt on all fourth, his ass raised in the air, sinking his teeth in the tender flesh of one cheek. Marius yelped with surprise and his cock throbbed in agreement to the delicious sensation of both, pleasure and pain. Nurio chuckled against his skin, soothing the bite-mark with his tongue, tracing wet patterns to the cleft where the entrance to his secret core was promising more pleasures to both of them.

Marius braced his hands against the mattress, hissing as cool air grazed over his hole when Nurio pulled his cheeks apart, teasing his puckered rosebud with a first exploring lick. Nurio made another purring sound and began to massage his sensitive tight muscle with his tongue until Marius moaned constantly, his balls heavy with his need and his cock leaking more creamy white onto the sheets.

Soon, the sensation was redoubled by one cheeky finger snaking its way into his tight heat, searching for the one spot that would make Marius scream instead of only moan. Marius squeezed his eyes shut and he unconsciously reached out for his achingly stiff cock, when a loud smack made him jerk and cry out with startled surprise.

“Don't touch yourself. Your cock is only mine!” Nurio growled deep in his throat and another shudder of lust and anticipation wrecked Marius from head to toe. He was a skilled Roman leader and could easily command a legion, but, Marius had always loved it to be dominated in bed and he obeyed without any protest, bracing his hand against the mattress again, although everything inside him screamed for release.

Nurio snarled with contentment as the brunette acknowledged his dominance without question and continued to prepare him with both, his tongue and his fingers thoroughly until Marius was only a quivering and begging mess, pleading in incoherent words to be taken and fucked.

“Oh, you will be fucked, my beautiful tribunus, don't you doubt that,” he purred into his ear as he lined himself up with the lube Marius kept on his bedside table, grabbing the other man's hips as he positioned himself behind him, pushing into him with one hard thrust. “I will take you and fuck you into the mattress until you don't know your own name any longer!”

“Oh, by Jupiter, yes, please, yes, fuck me hard!” Marius threw his head back and let out a strangled cry, vaguely aware that his reputation might suffer from his wanton behavior and the sight of him kneeling like a dog on the bed, begging to be fucked by his subordinate like one of the slaves the dark-haired man surely had had before him. But, he couldn't have cared less, the lust and passion he felt far too overwhelming to let room for anything else than his wish to have his burning desire satisfied.

A tender and affectionate kiss on his cheek reassured him that his submission was appreciated and welcomed, being considered as a precious treasure and that it would be kept a secret, proving to him that he was much more than just a brief sexual encounter for the other Roman and that his feelings were returned by Nurio.

When Nurio then began to fulfill his promise, setting up a hard and fast pace right from the beginning, driving into him in a punishing rhythm and shoving his face into the pillow with every hard thrust, all he could think of was that this was what he wanted and what he needed and that it felt like heaven on earth. The obscene sounds of wet flesh smacking against sweaty skin with each balls-deep thrust boosted his pleasure in a way he hadn't experienced before and he muffled his hoarse cries in the pillow as the calloused hand grabbed his rock-hard shaft again, stroking it relentlessly in the same rhythm as Nurio's spear drove into him. Marius arched his back, trying to meet the young centurio's movements, but, Nurio let go of his hip and pressed his hand on the small of his back to keep him from moving while he hammered into him, brushing roughly over Marius' oversensitive prostate until Marius saw stars before his closed eyes.

He was stretched to his limits, filled as deep as he had never been filled before by another cock and the sensation of literally being fucked into the mattress together with the rough fingers massaging his aching member finally became too much to bear.

The pleasure pooling in his groin spread out and the next thrust pushed him over the edge of an incredible climax and all Marius could do was surrendering to it, letting himself fall into sweet oblivion and savor his ecstasy to the fullest as he spurted his semen in hot, fast jets into the clever hand and all over the sheets, his loud screams silenced by the soft pillow his face was buried in.

Nurio behind him growled as the evidence of Marius' completion coated his fingers and he went rigid before he pumped his seed with several shuddering thrusts into Marius' tight heat, marking the brown-haired tribunus as his rightful conquered territory.

When he pulled his softening cock out, Marius slumped down on the bed, neither caring about the fact that he lay in the wet spot of his pleasure, nor about the wetness dripping out of his abused and well-fucked hole.

Nurio dropped down behind him, spooning his back and wrapping his arms protectively around him and Marius snuggled against him, sated and spent, with a small happy smile on his face.

He was just about to fall asleep again, when an urgent knock on his door startled him out of his drowsy contentment.

“Master, please, you must wake up and come. The Teuton's father came to the camp, he wants to speak with the legatus and with you!”

 

\-----------------------------------------------------

 

Erik stared at Rufus with wide eyes. “My – my father has come?” he stammered disbelievingly.

Rufus nodded his head. He was already busied with taking a fresh white tunic out of Marcus' wardrobe, eying it critically before he nodded contentedly again, hanging it over the backseat of one chair and looking for a toga for his master. There was no way that he would let his beloved master face the chief of a big tribe without being dressed neatly and appropriately.

Marcus smiled as he watched Rufus taking the lead, seeing to all that would be necessary to put his master and his master's young lover in a presentable state without one furtive glance at the bed. Marcus knew that he probably should be ashamed because Erik and he himself were still sitting naked on the bed with its crumpled sheets and other unmistakable signs of what they just had done in there, but, this was Rufus, one of the very few people Marcus trusted with his life and his heart and he knew that Rufus would always love and respect him unquestioningly; and so he simply got up to his feet to visit his bathroom and make himself as presentable as possible under these circumstances.

When he had rushed through a quick morning routine, Rufus had decided what his master should wear for this important negotiation and Marcus couldn't resist to urge the still shocked and speechless Mattiacer out of the bed with another tender smack on his butt.

Erik squeaked indignantly, but, Marcus only laughed. “Come on, Erik. Rufus has already seen you naked, he even has held your head when you were sick, no need to be shy now. Get your sweet ass out of the bed and make sure that you will neither put me to shame, nor your father.”

Erik blinked and stumbled out of the bed, disappearing behind the bathroom door. When the door had closed behind him, Rufus turned around to look at his master.

“Do you think that it will be wise to let Erik meet his father so soon after his attempt to break free, my master?” he asked silently. “I know that he loves you, but, I'm not sure if he will make the right decision when he sees his own people again, even more after what he told you about his sister.”

Marcus considered his personal slave who was also his close friend thoughtfully. “He told you about Lioba, then, as well,” he said after a moment of silence.

Rufus nodded his head. “Yes, he did. It makes his attempt to flee although he loves you so much more understandable.”

Marcus smiled with something akin to grim determination. “Yes, it does. And yes, I want Erik to be by my side when I talk to his father. I think that it will be the perfect opportunity for Erik to prove to me if he truly loves me and if I really can trust him, don't you think so, my dear Rufus?”


	22. Erik's Father

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcus will meet Erik's father for the first time. Will he be able to negotiate a peace treaty or at least a truce between his camp and Erik's tribe? And what will Erik do?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, I was finally able to go on with the plot. This chapter isn't proofread but I was eager to post and will do this later. I also want to introduce two newcomers to you: Jürgen Klopp is Erik's father Albin, just imagine him as a proud Teuton chief! And Matze, Matthias Ginter is the leader of his personal guard with the name Malte.  
> Albin means 'protecting friend' and Malte means: 'counselor of the people's assembly'. Malte is as close to Matze as I could manage and Albin is a good Teuton name. It doesn't sound like Jürgen, but I like the meaning of that name.
> 
> My dear audience, I want to thank you again for your wonderful support. Please, enjoy the new chapter and let me know if you liked it. There is also another adventure with Marcus Retus from a second alternate reality with Pierre-Emerick Aubamayang if you like the Roman setting. The title is: 'Unbreak My Heart'.

Erik followed Marcus through the corridors to the large courtyard, nervous and trembling with the emotions coursing through his body. Marcus had unchained him, but Rufus and four guards followed them, as well and Erik knew that they were watching him closely with hostile eyes. The held themselves only back because they adored and loved their commander that much and didn't want to distract him from this important negotiation. Erik was pretty sure that they would bring up the topic of the cheeky young Mattiacer having to be punished sooner rather than later.

The young Teuton couldn't take his eyes off the stunning sight in front of him. Since he had met Marcus, the Roman legatus had always worn a white tunic and sometimes his light armor, but Erik had never seen him fully dressed in a magnificent toga and every cell of his tall and lean body radiated the confidence, pride and natural authority of a being a Roman and the commander of an important camp. Marcus held his head up high and walked with a natural grace that aroused the strong wish to be alone with him again in the young prince.

The thought of seeing his father in only a few minutes made his heart beat faster and his stomach form itself into a tight knot. He missed his family and his own people but, he loved Marcus and only the thought of losing him scared him to death.

They crossed the large hall and when they were halfway through, Marius and Nurio showed up on the stairs to join them. Erik got the impression that the tribunus looked a little disheveled and flushed and the young centurio pretty smug and contented. They headed down the stairs and straight to Marcus who greeted his second and best friend with a brief smile. Erik could see it because the blonde Roman turned his head as he looked at the brunette. Nurio ignored him but Marius shot him a friendly, reassuring gaze and Erik relaxed a little bit and lifted his head up as he stepped through the large front door and into the sunshine of the beautiful spring day. Marcus would see to everything and as long as he could be by Marcus' side, everything would be fine.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------

 

Marcus stood in the middle of the courtyard flanked by his second Marius and his first centurio Nurio, waiting for the chief of the Mattiacers to arrive. Erik stood three steps diagonally behind him, flanked by the four guards who were pointing with their weapons at him.

He didn't like it but, he knew that it had to be this way. His legionaries were still upset about Erik's attempt to escape and Marcus also wasn't sure how Erik's father would react when he learned about his relationship with his son. It would be better to not let the chief know right at the beginning that his son was in love with the Roman he had tried to kill only a few days ago and he wouldn't risk losing the trust and faith his legionaries had in him by letting his personal feelings take control when it came to command this important camp.

To Marcus' surprise, Erik had accepted the four guards without any protest, he actually had looked astonished as Marcus had removed the chain. Rufus had been so foresighted to bring the key with him. He must have spoken to Marius' personal slave Abdal, because there was only one key to this special chain and Marius had taken it with him the previous evening. Sometimes, Marcus wasn't sure if Rufus had the ability to read minds because he always seemed to know exactly what Marcus needed without him having to speak it out loud.

The Gate to the courtyard opened and five strangers appeared, guarded by Severus and nine other Roman legionaries. Marcus stared at the newcomers with a blank expression on his face, suppressing a smile as he felt Erik behind him instinctively moving closer to him as if he sought shelter in their closeness. One of the guards shifted his weight and raised his weapon, but Marcus' quick sharp glance caused him to stay where he was. Erik didn't want to attack him and his movement in his direction told Marcus more than a long speech would have done. Erik's instinctive behavior proved to the Roman legatus that he wouldn't try to escape for a second time and that he felt safer with him than with his own people. He reached out with his hand and pulled him closer until Erik stood beside him, there arms almost touching without taking his eyes from the eldest of the five strangers.

Erik's father was an impressive man, an experienced warrior who had seen much in his life and with the natural authority radiating from him every good leader needed to have. He wore the same clothes as Erik had worn when they first had met, long trousers and a tunic-like shirt with long sleeves. A large belt accentuated his waist and Marcus could see that the elder man was perfectly in shape, carrying no extra weight. The only thing proving to Marcus that he was the leader of the group apart from his charisma and his age was the coat falling from his shoulders down to his thighs and his proudly lifted chin.

And yet Marcus could see that the Mattiacer didn't come as the chief of his tribe but as a a father who had lost his daughter and his son within a short amount of time. Marcus could tell it easily by the grief he could see in the depths of the sharp gray-blue eyes, their color reminding Marcus of the wild sea before a storm was approaching and the slightly slumped shoulders as if the Mattiacer carried an extra weight upon them.

Erik had told him the name of his father and its meaning before they had left his room and Marcus had to admit that the name suited the father of his young lover perfectly: Albin, the protecting friend. Marcus felt drawn in to him and he felt the sudden strong wish to win this remarkable Teuton as his friend and to ease the pain he felt about the loss of his beloved children.

The courtyard lay in complete silence but the tension lying in the air was so thick that Marcus almost could grasp it with his hands. He waited patiently until Albin stopped in front of him, not as close to be considered as a threat but close enough that he didn't need to yell while talking to him. He looked Marcus straight in the eyes and Marcus returned the gaze without blinking, his face still impassive but not unfriendly.

“I am Albin, chief of the Mattiacer living near your camp, Marcus Retus. I came to beg for mercy for my son's life,” the older man spoke up after one long moment, his voice raw with his sorrow, but firm and steady. “I'm offering myself if you only let my son live.”

 

\--------------------------------------------------

 

Marcus had expected something like this, but Albin's words touched him deeply, nevertheless. A strangled sound escaped Erik's lips and Marcus briefly brushed with his fingers over his hand.

“You don't have to beg for mercy for your son's life, Albin the Mattiacer. I have no wish to harm your son,” he said and Albin blinked, obviously taken by surprise.

“He tried to kill you, Roman. I know that Romans don't take attempts on their lives easily. We found the bodies of the young men who were with Erik when he attacked you,” Albin stated with bitterness and Erik beside him flinched as realization about what he had done to his beloved father hit him with all its force.

Their tribe had lost good men just because of his stupid wish to revenge his sister. Marcus would have liked to ease his bad conscience, but he had a job to do. This was his chance to negotiate a truce with Erik's tribe, maybe even a peace treaty and his desire to console the young man he loved so much had to wait until later.

So, he only nodded his head in agreement to Albin's words. “Yes, I figured that you would come after your son and find their bodies so you would be able to bury them to your own rites. They fought well, Albin. They were good men and they died like good warriors should die.”

Albin bowed slightly his head before he straightened his shoulders again. “Please, take my life instead of Erik's,” he repeated hoarsely and Marcus allowed himself to show the small but honest smile that wanted to tug at the corners of his mouth.

“I already told you that I have no intention to harm your son, Mattiacer. But, Erik will stay with me as my hostage and my guest. He is not allowed to return to you and your tribe until I'm sure that you will never attack us again. I'm not here to fight against you and your people. I'm interested in getting along with my neighbors and live in peace with them. Your son will grant this peace until you have learned that we will stay here and to live in peace with us. Other Teuton tribes learned that before and you will learn that, as well.”

Albin's eyes darted to the figure of his son standing beside the Roman, taking in the sight of the young man in his unusual Roman clothing, and Marcus could see the emotions flickering over his expressive face: love, grief, anger relief and the pride every father felt for their sons. The Teuton had every right to be proud of his son and Marcus felt another wave of sympathy coursing through him. He was determined to find Erik's sister more than ever by now and he gestured to the door of his villa, invitingly.

“Please, come in, Albin. Maybe, we can fix at least a truce between my camp and your tribe and there is also another thing I want to talk about with you,” he suggested and Albin willed his eyes away from his son and looked at him again. His men moved closer to him, young warriors, well-trained and ready to defend their chief's life with their own, Marcus had seen that right at first sight. One of the young man had caught his attention, because he seemed to be close to Erik judging by the looks he had exchanged with him and he also looked as if he was a reasonable young man who thought twice before acting. He stood a little bit closer to Erik's father and his hand hovered over the hilt of his sword.

“You can bring one of your men with you, the others have to stay outside, but my centurio will make sure that they won't be attacked by my legionaries.” He waved at Severus who nodded his head and stepped closer to the three remaining Mattiacers who didn't seem to be happy with the new development but didn't object, either.

Albin slowly stepped closer with the young man right behind him watching his back and Marcus turned around and headed towards his villa without looking back. He could feel Erik at his side and he knew that Marius and Nurio were close behind him, too, escorting the two Teutons as Marcus led them to his large living room where they could sit and talk comfortably.

Rufus had already read his thoughts again and prepared the room with thick cushions on the floor, a light meal and Marcus smiled at him as he crossed the room and sat down on one of the cushions. Erik took the cushion next to him and Albin and the young Teuton at down in front of them. Marius and Nurio stayed on their feet, Marius taking position behind Marcus and Nurio behind Erik with their hands on the hilts of their swords, a clear warning for everyone, and the four legionaries guarded the door and the window front.

Marcus had briefly mused about taking the Teuton's weapons but decided against it although it might be unwise. But, he wanted to show Erik's father that he was truly interested in negotiating a peace treaty and he wanted to treat Albin as an equal. Marcus had learned during his time as a commander that sometimes, showing trust and honesty were much sharper weapons than any sword could be and he could see in the gray-blue eyes of the older man that the chief of the Mattiacer had noticed his display of trust and goodwill and appreciated it.

Marcus waved at Rufus who came closer, offering food and wine. The young man sitting beside Albin hesitated at first, but when Marcus ate from the fruits, smiling at him, he took the offered plate.

“The food isn't poisoned, Mattiacer,” he assured him, handing his plate to Erik. Erik took it without hesitation and this caused his father to accept the offered food, as well.

Albin considered Marcus thoughtfully, eating one of the sweet apples Marcus liked so much. “I will negotiate with you, Marcus Retus. But first, you have to know that I lost my daughter because of some Romans kidnapping her. I don't want to lose my son, as well. I will negotiate with you, but only if you agree to sending my son back to my tribe. Take me as your hostage instead.”

Marcus returned his gaze, slowly shaking his head. “No, Albin, Erik will stay with me. He will stay with me and warrant that not one single men of your tribe will attack one of my Romans again.”

Albin tensed with anger, trying to get on his feet and closing his hand around the hilt of his sword, but Marcus lifted his hand up in a calming gesture.

“Before you'll do something you will certainly regret, Albin, please, hear me out. I think that I know who actually kidnapped your daughter, and I promise you that I will do everything I can do bring her back to you. But, this will only happen if you let Erik stay with me. I won't let Erik go and you know that won't stand a chance against my legions. You can accept what I'm offering you and get your daughter back, or you can fight against me and lose both of your children. It is your choice, Albin.”

He went silent, knowing that everyone in this room was staring at him. Albin's next words would decide if there would be peace in the future or war and Marcus could only hope that Erik's father would make the right decision.


	23. Father And Son

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcus told Albin, Erik's father that he won't let Erik go. How will Albin react?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm in the mood for my beloved Romans and I wanted to update this fic today. It is a little bit shorter than the last ones, but the chapter would have become too long otherwise and not posted for the next days.
> 
> I want to say thank you again for your interest in my Romans and your wonderful support! You're the best and I'm so happy about your feedback. Please, keep it up and let me know if you liked the talk between Erik and his father Albin (Jürgen Klopp). :-)

Albin stayed silent for a long time and Erik anxiously clenched his fists around the linen of his white tunic as he watched his father staring at the Roman legatus with an unreadable expression on his remarkable features.

Erik knew his father and he had seen other proud warriors and Teuton chiefs bending their knees before him, but Marcus held the elder man's gaze without blinking, his face calm and as unreadable as his father's face was. They were equals in every sense and meaning, everyone watching them could see that and after a while, his father acknowledged this important fact with a short nod of his head.

“I want to talk to my son first - alone,” he said after several minutes of complete silence and Marcus agreed to Albin's request without hesitation. Erik had expected the blond Roman to object, but Marcus didn't even looked at him as he said: “Of course, Albin, I understand that. I can't leave you alone though, but you can talk to your son in private here and my second and I will wait on the other side of the room. The tribunus and I are the only ones in this room speaking your language, Mattiacer. My first centurio will stay with you, but if you talk to your son in your own mother tongue, no one will know what you said to him. I appreciate that you learned out language, leader of the Mattiacer.”

Albin smiled at the blonde Roman. “This is necessary when you're surrounded by Romans, Marcus Retus,” he remarked dryly and Marcus smiled, as well. “Every good leader should be able to understand the language of the intruders taking your homeland.”

Marcus pursed his lips. “This country is big enough for Teutons and Romans, Mattiacer. You have to accept that we are here and that we will stay. I will leave you alone, now. Nurio, you will stay with them, Marius, you will come with me.”

He nodded at Nurio who still stood behind Erik without moving , but, when Erik turned his head, his eyes rested upon him for the blink of an eye. Erik turned around on his father again, expecting him to object, and his father surprised him as he showed the same trust and goodwill Marcus had shown as he had left the Mattiacers their weapons by nodding his head.

“You seem to be an honorable and trustworthy man, Marcus Retus. If you say that your first centurio doesn't speak our language, then I will believe you. He might stay,” he replied and Marcus got up to his feet with one single gracious move.

“I'm glad that we might be able to come to an understanding, Albin,” Marcus said as he stood up with one single gracious move, stalking to the other side of the room with Marius in tow, never looking at Erik. Erik felt hurt by the young Roman's behavior, he craved for an encouraging look, a brief smile – anything that would tell him what Marcus expected from him – that told him that Marcus loved him and trusted him. He didn't know whether or not he had done something wrong and he hoped that Marcus would explain his behavior to him later and give him the chance to make up for whatever it was he had done wrong.

His father waved at Malte, his personal guard and Erik's best friend who had remained silent, respecting his role as being the quiet observer and guard, although Erik could see that his friend longed to talk to him.

“Malte, you will go to the other side of the room, as well. I want to talk to Erik alone. Maybe, the Roman legatus will allow you to spend some time with each other, later,” he ordered and Malte nodded and stood up to go to the other side of the room, leaving enough distance between the Romans and himself. He leaned against the wall, his hand within reach of his sword and stared out of the window, probably without seeing anything. Erik longed to talk to his best friend, but this was not the time and he sighed wistfully, musing about how it could be that two of the people who meant the most to him were so near and yet seemed to be so far away from him.

“Your Roman showed you his trust by not influencing you with a look or a smile, son,” his father's voice broke in on his wistful musings about Marcus and Malte and Erik blinked and blushed, his eyes widening as he stared at the beloved face.

“Father? What do you mean?” he stammered after clearing his throat nervously and his father smiled sadly. “You are my son, Erik. Did you really believe that I wouldn't see how much he means to you? Your eyes always gave you away, from the day you were born. You could never hide your true emotions, son, neither from me, nor from your mother.”

Erik lowered his head to his knees, staring blindly at the pale skin peering out under the tunic. “I'm so sorry, father. I didn't mean to trouble you,” he whispered hoarsely, fighting against the tears that threatened to well up in his eyes. Damn it! He was a grown up man, a prince, a warrior. Proud Teuton warrior didn't cry as oftentimes as he had done during the last couple days.

His father reached out and gently laid his hand upon Erik's trembling fingers. “I know that, Erik. He treats you right, I guess?”

Erik shyly looked up and in his father's eyes, filled with the love he felt for his son. Albin was in a difficult position, because Erik was his only son and of course, Albin had wished that he would find a wife and have children with her, but when he had caught Erik kissing one of his close friends two years ago, he hadn't been angry or disappointed, at all. Erik had thought that he would, but his father had surprised him as he had taken him in his arms and assured him that he would always be his son, no matter whether the person he loved was male or female, as long as he or she was worth it to be loved. Erik's friend hadn't had such luck, his father hadn't talked to him again until the day Brandolf had chosen a wife.

But, a Roman surely couldn't be considered as worthy by nature for any Teuton and Erik had been deeply worried about his father's reaction. “Yes, father, Marcus treats me more than right,” he assured him after clearing his throat again. “I tried to kill him, I insulted him and 'rewarded' him by trying to steal his stallion and flee from him and yet, he never showed anything else than understanding, patience and love to me. He even risked the anger of his legions by protecting me and I more than deserve this chain. I would never run away from him again, but, this is the only way his legionaries will accept me near him.”

Erik swallowed, being ashamed, not only because of his own behavior, but also because of Marcus' and Albin's understanding. Marcus wasn't that much older and yet he was so much wiser and more level-headed than Erik thought he would ever be.

Albin pursed his lips and nodded his head. “I see. If you did what you told me, than you truly deserve to wear this chain, son,” he told him in a strict voice. “Wearing a chain would have been the least of your problems if another Roman had trapped you, never mind another Teuton tribe, Erik. Why did you try to steal his horse after he treating you well and kind despite your attempt to kill him?”

“Because I only thought that I need to find Lioba. I never thought that Marcus would agree to search for her and when I had the opportunity – I didn't think, I only acted...” his voice trailed off and Albin let out a snort that sounded partly annoyed and partly amused.

“I see. Like you did when your wish to take revenge and kill an important Roman legatus who proved more than once what an outstanding leader and warrior he is overwhelmed you and you acted without thinking,” he mocked, but Erik could hear the fatherly love behind the mockery and didn't mind his father's words.

He had acted more than dense and stupid and he deserved his father's anger and mockery as much as Marcus' chain. Good men had died because of his wish to take revenge on someone who wasn't responsible for his sister's kidnapping, at all. He would always have to live with that guilt and he knew that. Erik hung his head and sighed. “I know father. I disappointed you and good men died because of me. I will never forgive myself that. You must be hurt and angry and I deserve all of that. But, Marcus promised me that he would search and find Lioba and I love him so much. If my stay as his hostage in his captivity means that our tribe won't lose any more good warriors, then I'm willing to pay that price.”

He longed to be more than only Marcus' hostage and 'guest', to share his life in freedom with him, but he knew that this wasn't possible, at least not at the moment and he had resigned himself to his fate the previous evening when he had realized what he had done. Another thought came into his mind though, and the former young prince and now hostage looked his father in the eyes again.

“What did you mean when you said that Marcus showed his trust in me by ignoring me?” he inquired confused, still hurt about Marcus' strange behavior.

His father smiled. “You expected him to tell you what to do, either with his eyes or with his smile. He did neither the first, nor the second thing. He trusted you enough to let you make your own decision about what you would tell me and he didn't want to influence you. Your Roman couldn't know that I would read your face that easily, although he seems to be able to read you himself rather easily which is astonishing after this short time. Marcus Retus truly is an extraordinary and remarkable young man and he really cares about you, that much is clear. If it's really your own wish to stay with him, then I will accept it, although I'd rather like to have at home and safe again.” Albin said silently.

Erik's eyes wandered to the tall and elegant figure leaning against the wall next to the door, talking to his second Marius. Marcus looked relaxed and confident and he seemed to sense Erik's gaze upon him, because he turned his head on him and looked straight into Erik's eyes. He didn't smile, but even through the distance of several meters Erik could see the warmth and the tenderness in his wonderful eyes.

“I am safe here. More than I most likely would be at home. Marcus will never allow anyone to harm me. He will take care of me, father, because he loves me,” Erik whispered quietly, his own faith in the young Roman clear to hear in his wistful voice. Marcus would always take care of him and protect him, Erik knew that for sure.


	24. The Weight On His Shoulders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcus had a rough and exhausting day. It is a good thing that he has his personal slave and good friend Rufus to help him relax and calm down before he will see Erik again. Maybe, a massage and talking about the happenings of the day will help him sort things out?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me so long, but there were so many other works demanding my attention. Now, I'm back with this story and the next chapter won't take that long again.  
> This could be considered as a filler chapter again and I decided to tell about Marcus' speech to his legionaries only in his memory, but this chapter was needed to give Marcus some time to come to terms with everything that happened. In the next chapter, the boys will be united again and have a nice encounter in the bath tub. ;-)  
> In the chapter after the next will also two new characters show up, two young man I really like and want to include in this story, one of them will be mentioned in this chapter and be one of Erik's Teuton friends.
> 
> Thank you again for your wonderful support for this for me very important story and please keep it up and leave kudos and comments if you liked the new chapter! :-)

Marcus suppressed a painful groan as he entered his bath, feeling stiff and sore as he normally only felt after three long days in the saddle. Every muscle in his body hurt from the tension of the last hours and he craved for some time alone, one of Rufus' wonderful massages and a warm bath, not necessarily in this order. Maybe, the massage first because it would help him to relax when he was alone and enjoying his bath. Marcus sighed and paused in the doorway for one moment, remembering the happenings of the day.

He had left Erik in the care of his slaves Rufus and Antonia a couple of hours ago to negotiate with Erik's father, the chief of the Mattiacers and he had been glad, relieved and astonished at the same time that Erik hadn't objected, at all. The young Teuton had only shot him a shy and wistful smile before he had left the living room after hugging his father one last time. Marcus had hesitated first, but then allowed Erik's friend Malte to go with him and spend some time with him while he talked to Albin, but he had ordered Severus and three guards to go with them to the smaller private living room where Erik could stay with his friend during the negotiation. Severus wasn't able to speak and understand Erik's mother tongue, but, he was good in reading body language and would notice every attempt of the strange Mattiacer to free Erik without intruding their privacy by listening to what they talked about.

Erik had accepted Marcus' precautions without any protests, too, and when Malte had opened his mouth to object because he obviously wanted to stay and be a part of the negotiations, Erik had glared at him and murmured something into his ear Marcus hadn't heard because of the distance. Malte had snapped his mouth shut and followed Erik and the four Romans out of the room without further objections. Erik's one last glance back had assured Marcus that his words hadn't been anything else than just his way to show Marcus that he respected his orders and his wishes. Marcus had gifted him with a tender smile and then pushed his overwhelming love for the young prince aside, becoming the strong and level-headed Roman legatus again.

Albin was a remarkable and wise man and a strong leader as much as Marcus was himself and it had taken them some time to come to an agreement, but when Albin had left the camp, Marcus had watched him leave in the knowledge that no Mattiacer under Albin's command would ever attack them again. Marcus smiled when he thought of the concession Albin had pulled from him. First, he hadn't been happy about it, but after considering it again, he had to admit that Albin was right with what he had said, because they had to travel through hostile territory for a long time to reach Augusta Treverorum and it could be useful to have two experienced Teuton warrior traveling with them. Erik didn't know until now that his best friend Malte and another young warrior called Jonas would accompany them and Marcus wouldn't tell him that until Malte returned to the camp with the other warrior the next day.

Marcus wanted to leave the camp as soon as possible and start with the search for Albin's daughter, because the chance to find her unharmed was getting smaller and smaller with every day that passed. Severus, one of his most trustworthy centurios and Rufus would come with them and also four legionaries Marcus had chosen personally for this task.

Marcus sighed again, pushing himself away from the door-frame to enter the bath, shrugging out of his toga as he walked to his personal restroom. He hadn't expected to find Rufus there waiting for him and he frowned slightly by the sight of his slave and friend preparing everything for his bath and one of his massages.

“Can you read minds, my dear friend?” he asked, flinching as he noticed how exhausted he sounded. Rufus smiled at his beloved master.

“I would be a bad servant and friend if I didn't know after all this time what you need after such a rough and exhausting day, my master,” he said. “I also ordered a light dinner to be brought here in half an hour for you and your young charge. And before you tell me off for leaving Erik alone let me tell you that he agreed with me wholeheartedly that you will need my service more than he himself after the negotiations with his father and your speech to your legionaries. He is safe in your room and will wait there patiently for me to pick him up after I have seen to your sore muscles. Antonia stayed with him and I can assure you that he learned his lesson and will never ever even think of causing any trouble. In fact, he was the one sending me here and I'm glad that he did, because you look tired and aching. So please lay down on the cot and let me see to your tensed muscles, Marcus,” his slave gently ordered and Marcus was too exhausted and grateful to utter any further protest.

“He sent you?” he mumbled, burying his face in his arms as he laid down on the cot on his stomach after undressing his tunic. Rufus opened the vial with the oil he used when he massaged his beloved master's back, drizzling it on the smooth skin of Marcus' shoulders. He had warmed it before to avoid Marcus tensing even more because of the sensation of sudden coldness on his warm back and Marcus heaved a delighted sigh as Rufus' skilled hands began working the kinks out of his aching back.

“Of course, he did, Marcus. He loves you. Erik knows quite well what he did and he was anxious the entire time until Marius came to your room to inform him that you came to an agreement with his father and that your legionaries reacted well to your speech and your explanations. He was deeply worried that he might have caused some serious damage to your reputation and standing and he almost cried with relief when he heard that your men assured you their loyalty.”

Marcus smiled at that, letting the happenings after the negotiations pass before his mind's eye again.  
He had been anxious himself about the reactions of his legionaries and had a hard time with not letting his worries show when he had stood on a small pedestal in the middle of the large Forum placed in the center of Mogontiacum. Marius had asked him whether it wouldn't be better to place the pedestal at one edge of the Forum, but Marcus had wanted to show that he trusted his legionaries with his heart and that he was one of them, although he knew that he risked getting attacked without any chance of escape being surrounded by the men who had been willing to follow him to hell and back before Erik had acted without thinking.

Marcus had spoken to them for more than half an hour and told his men about his truce deal with Albin which hopefully would lead to a peace treaty after finding his daughter. He had asked them to stay loyal to Marius during his absence and when Matteus had clapped his hands and assured Marcus his loyalty and willingness to do everything that would be necessary to grant the peace and the success of Marcus' mission, his legionaries had followed his examples, shouting and clapping and yelling that Marcus could count on them no matter what.

Marcus' knees had almost buckled with his relief and his eyes had become wet with his emotion; and he knew that he could leave the camp in Marius' hands and that Matteus and Nurio would support his best friend and second-in-command in every possible way while he was away.

“Then he might have really learned his lesson,” he murmured, his voice muffled by his arms. He groaned as Rufus kneaded one tight knot out of his right shoulder and Rufus hummed in approval. “His friend Malte was truly worried about your way of treating him. You should have seen him, my master. He almost got angry and he defended you and your actions and precautions vigorously. His friend was taken aback when he realized how much Erik loves you, but he accepted it in the end and I don't think that he will try to drive a wedge between Erik and you.”

“This is good news then, because he will accompany us together with another young Mattiacer with the name Jonas. But, how did you learn all of this? I told you to stay out of earshot to give them some privacy,” Marcus told his friend and personal slave off, but without much emphasis, too relieved that everything seemed to go well and smoothly after all the struggles and quarrels. Rufus chuckled quietly.

“I did stay out of earshot, my master. I would never even think of disobeying your orders. But, you didn't forbid me to look at their lips while they talked to each other and I have to admit that Antonia is a real good teacher when it comes to lip-reading,” he admitted and Marcus groaned defeated.

“Damn it, I really forgot that she taught you lip-reading,” Marcus said stunned and Rufus could hear the dismay in his voice.

“Don't worry, Marcus,” the red-haired Celt assured his exhausted master gently. “Your Teuton prince noticed that I looked at his lips and he didn't mind it, at all. Quite the opposite, he made sure after seeing me watching them that I had a good look on his lips whenever he spoke.”

Marcus swallowed, deeply touched that Erik had done that. He would have understood it if Erik had wanted to talk to his friend without being spied on and if he hadn't believed before Rufus had told him this that his young lover truly loved him, then he would have believed it now.

For a while, he simply lay there with closed eyes, enjoying the silence and calmness after a hard day and constantly feeling the weight of his responsibilities and important decisions he had to make pressing heavily down on his shoulders, decision that could endanger not only himself but also the entire camp and other parts of the Roman empire. Rufus kneaded his muscles with firm movements, knowing exactly what he had to do to ease the painful tension and work the kinks out of them. Marcus dropped into a state of content drowsiness until the Celt finally stroked over his spine with a tender gesture that showed his utter devotion for his adored and beloved master.

“Ah, thank you Rufus, I'd be lost without you,” Marcus murmured, slowly getting into a somewhat upright position just in time to hear a silent knock on the door to the bathroom.

Rufus wiped his hands on a towel. “This will be the dinner I ordered to be brought here,” he said with a smile as he left Marcus' restroom to take care of Marcus' dinner.

Marcus followed him lost in his thoughts, sitting down at the edge of the pool with his feet hanging down into the warm and fragrant water. Rufus came back to him, carrying a large platter with fruits, bread and cheese arranged very nicely on two plates. He carefully put it down on the marble tiles beside the young Roman legatus. He smiled at the blond Roman, nodding contentedly when he saw that he looked much better than only half an hour ago.

“I'm glad to see that my massage has brought some color back into your cheeks, Marcus,” he stated. “Shall I pick up Erik and bring him here now? If I had to guess, then I would say that he is a nervous wreck by now after not seeing you for hours.”

Marcus smiled back at him, his longing for the young Teuton prince who had stolen his heart so quickly and thoroughly overwhelming him again. He loosened the thin silver chain he wore around his neck, handing it to his friend. Rufus smiled when he saw the small key that hung from the necklace.

“Yes, Rufus, please, bring Erik to me,” Marcus said hoarsely. “And unchain him. My legionaries agreed with me that he won't have to wear the chain any longer. Please, hurry, Rufus, I really need to see him again.”

Rufus gently laid the necklace back into Marcus' hand, closing his fingers around it.

“I will hurry my master and bring Erik to you. But, you should be the one unchaining him. You are the man he loves and he told me that he will wear this chain without any complaints until you will remove it yourself.”

Marcus swallowed, blinking against the sudden wetness in his eyes. “Yes, Rufus, you are right. I have to be the one giving him his freedom back, at least the freedom of being unchained. And I will do it. I will be the one removing his chain.”

Rufus nodded his head and turned around on his heels to fulfill his master's wish and Marcus watched him leave with a smile on his face, his fingers closed firmly around the key in his hand.

He really couldn't wait to remove Erik's chain and tell him how much he loved him.


	25. I Give Myself To You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rufus helped Marcus to relax and now, he will bring Erik to Marcus waiting in the bathroom for him. Will Marcus unchain Erik and show him that he trust him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear simpleandpure22, I want to dedicate this chapter to you, because you love this story so much and wanted to read about passion in the tub.
> 
> Dear GoForGoals, I want to dedicate this chapter to you because you love this story so much and asked me to write about Marcus giving himself to Erik.
> 
> Dear funfan, I want to dedicate this chapter to you, too, because you love this story so much and your support for it is truly outstanding.
> 
> Dear readers, this is a long chapter and reunites our sweet boys before they will finally start their mission to rescue Erik's sister Lioba. It is emotional and I do hope that you will enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please, keep up your wonderful support and feedback and let me know if this chapter is as speical to you as it is for me! :-)

Marcus stood up from the edge of the large tub again, too nervous to sit down while he waited for Rufus to come back with Erik, the small key pressing painfully in his palm because his fingers clenched around it that tightly to their own will. He paced up and down before the tub getting more and more upset by the thought of Erik having to walk through the corridors with the shackle and the chain around his ankle. He should have gone to his quarters himself and unchain him there, he should have done that before coming to the bath, he should have...

The door to the bathroom flew open and before Marcus got any chance to react or crouch down to unlock the shackle, Erik almost flew through the air as he threw himself into Marcus arms, his lips pressing hungrily against the Roman legatus' mouth the second it was within his lips' reach.

Marcus stumbled a few steps back, struggling to keep his balance and stay on his feet, and all he could do was wrap his arms as tightly around his beloved Teuton prince as he could without hurting him and return the kiss as if his life depended on it. He forgot the chain, his legionaries and everything else that had troubled him during the day, the only important thing mattering to him being Erik's arms around him and his soft lips upon his own as they nibbled and caressed and pressed tenderly, telling him how much Erik loved him the only way he could deal with at the moment. When the cheeky and curious tongue of his beautiful lover finally searched its way through the barrier of his own still closed lips, he opened his mouth and welcomed Erik with all his heart, inviting the tender conqueror to explore and mark every spot and every place in the soft cavern waiting to be claimed eagerly.

Marcus was used to be the one in charge, the one making the decisions and taking the lead and he was amazed how good it felt to let Erik take control of the kiss at least for one time and just respond to it. Erik's hands were on his naked still with the oil slippery back, stroking and caressing his shoulders and his backside covered only with the thin and short garment of his briefs, and Marcus found himself tugging desperately at the short tunic Erik wore in order to feel his warm and smooth skin underneath his trembling fingers.

Erik let go of his from the passionate onslaught bruised lips for just the few seconds he needed to rip the tunic and his briefs from his body before he kissed Marcus again, shoving him in the direction of the tub until they almost stumbled over the edge. Then, he pulled Marcus' briefs down and helped him stepping out of them before he knelt down with him, never breaking their kiss as he lowered the Roman legatus into the tub and followed him into the warm water.

Marcus' fingers were still wrapped around the key and he pulled away from Erik's lips in the attempt to remind him of the shackle and the chain around his ankle and that he needed to remove them. “The chain, I need to...” he ground out, but Erik kissed him again, whispering against his lips in a tender and rough voice filled with so much love and longing that Marcus felt a sudden lump in his throat:

“Yes, I know. Forget the damn chain, you can do it later. Rufus told me. Please, let me pleasure you, Marcus. I need to feel you, to taste you first!”

“But!” Marcus objected although he trembled with the need to give in to what Erik wanted, his manhood rock-hard and aching with the need to be touched.

“Hush, shshsh, later, my wonderful Roman, please, let me just do this for you first,” Erik soothed him, taking his hips in a firm but gentle grip and lifting them above the water surface so he could lower his mouth onto Marcus' leaking cock without drowning.  
Marcus shifted his weight until he rested with his shoulders on the marble tiles at the edge of the tub, closing his eyes in pure bliss as Erik's hot and wet mouth closed around the tip of his throbbing cock. He hadn't imagined their first encounter after the visit of Erik's father to be like this, he had imagined to take the lead again and pleasure the young prince, but by Jupiter, he needed this! He needed to let Erik have his way with him and just enjoy what the young Mattiacer was willing to give him without having to make the decisions what would be the best for both of them.

He moaned as Erik began to lick and suck on his way along his hard shaft, sometimes teasingly and sometimes hard enough to drive the blond Roman crazy with the sensation of an eager and smooth tongue stroking his needy cock and the promise of more to come.

Marcus' arms trembled with the effort of keeping his torso above the water surface and he could feel the pleasure building in his groin unstoppable. Erik wasn't experienced in giving a blowjob, that much was clear, but his obvious enthusiasm and ardor made up more than enough for his lack of experience. This would be one the of the shortest encounters Marcus had ever enjoyed and it took him several tries until he managed to open his mouth and form coherent words.

“I won't last long, Erik,” he ground out and Erik chuckled around the weeping cock buried deep in his mouth. “Yu'r n't s'pp'sed t' l'st l'ng'. Y're 'ppos'd t' 'njoy 'nd c'm!” he mumbled around the proof of Marcus' pure and utter maleness, his voice sounding slurred because of the heavy weight of Marcus' impressive length pressing against his palate and tongue. He looked at Marcus watching him pleasuring him in this intimate way from underneath his thick dark eyelashes and Marcus could see the sparkles of his smug grin dancing in his eyes. The young Mattiacer kept gazing at him while he bobbed up and down on Marcus' dick, swirling his tongue around the sensitive head, and there was nothing Marcus could do to keep himself from coming. He needed his arms to support his weight on the tiles and his fingers were still curled around the key because there was no way that he would lose it in the water. Erik's grip around his hipbones kept him in place and even though he wanted to enjoy the first blowjob his young lover gifted him with for a while longer, he didn't have the strength to fight against the overwhelming need to just let go and come hard into the tender mouth.

Erik's knowing chuckle boosted the sensation of his tongue licking over the leaking slit even more and the sparkles dancing in Erik's wonderful hazel-green eyes shimmered golden as he gave him one single order, not caring about the fact that Marcus actually should be the one in charge and he was still wearing his chain, slowly swaying forth and back in the warm water. “C'me, Marc's!”

And Marcus obeyed happily, letting the incredible intensive waves of his orgasm wash over him as he spurted his hot release deep down Erik's throat. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out as he shuddered violently through his ecstasy, feeding the young man he loved so much with his salty pleasure until he had nothing more to give and Erik finally let his softening cock slip out of his mouth with a wet 'plopp'. Marcus breathed heavily as he struggled to stay out of the water with his head and when Erik gently pulled him close, supporting his weight easily, he buried his face in the warm crook between his neck and his shoulder, inhaling deeply his wonderful male scent and allowing the younger one to hold him and rock him until he had caught his breath again.

“Thank you,” he murmured against the smooth skin of Erik's vulnerable throat and Erik pressed a gentle kiss on his damp hair. “You're welcome love. I'm happy that I could do something for you after you did so much for me the entire time.”

Marcus sighed, a small, happy and contented sound, lifting his head from the brunet's shoulder and searching for his lips. He could taste himself upon them and a new wave of longing coursed through him with surprising force after his satisfying orgasm. The young Roman leader knew that he actually needed to eat and to rest, but he had missed Erik so badly and feeling the unmistakable proof of Erik's unfulfilled desire nudging against his belly aroused new lust and passion in him. He deepened the kiss hungrily, trying the quench his burning thirst for more kisses, more contact, more of everything by rubbing himself against the strong male body, whispering hoarsely into Erik's ear as they finally had to part for air: “I want you to take me, Erik, here, now!”

The desperate and needy moan he pulled from his wonderful lover with his harsh confession was the sweetest music he had ever listened to. “You sure, Marcus?” Erik brought out and Marcus let his lips travel over his flushed skin, biting down on his shoulder as he pulled him closer, kneading Erik's butt cheeks with his from the sword and the reins calloused hand.

“Never been surer in my life. After removing this damn chain, that is!” he growled, taking the lead again. Erik's happy snicker tickled at his earlobe. “Who am I to object against such a tempting offer!”

He lifted his leg until Marcus could grab the shackle and put the key into the lock. He had difficulties to turn it around in the lock to open it and a slight bout of nausea pooling in his stomach made him inhale sharply as the key almost slipped through his wet fingers. He hissed relieved as the lock sprang open and the shackle loosened its grip around Erik's narrow ankle. Marcus growled, grabbing the chain with sudden fury, throwing it through the damp air and watching the chain and the iron shackle falling down on the tiles at the other side of the large bathroom with a loud clattering sound.

Marcus Retus pulled Erik the young Teuton prince who had stolen his heart right with the first look in his hazel-green eyes close to his aching body again, crazy with the need to feel the perfect and oh so hard cock buried to the hilt deep inside his secret core, unable to think of anything else than be as close to the love of his life as two human beings only could be.

Erik sighed and melted against him but just when Marcus tried to push his hand between his legs, he pulled his hand away, looking at Marcus. “We need lube, don't we?” he whispered as Marcus blinked at him with confusion, and Marcus groaned frustrated, knowing that Erik was right. It had been a rather long time since he had last bottomed and there was no way that they could do it without preparation, not if he wanted to be able to ride a horse the next day. He sighed because the thought of leaving the warm water and going to his private restroom to grab the small bottle with the massage oil wasn't tempting, at all.

Erik's pleased snicker startled him and he turned his head to see what it was that amused the young Mattiacer that much. “Your Rufus truly scares me, Marcus,” Erik snorted. “Can he read minds?” He pointed at the vial beside the two forgotten plates on the platter near the edge of the pool. It was a true miracle that the food hadn't gotten wet during their time in the bath and Marcus groaned with embarrassment as Erik now looked questioningly at him.

“No,” he mumbled with a disbelieving glance at the vial on the platter. “He only knows me very well,” he admitted and Erik grinned mischievously at him. “Yeah, I had already figured that, Marcus.” He stretched himself, reaching over Marcus's shoulder until he could take the bottle from the platter. “Remind me that I will thank him for his prudence,” he then whispered at Marcus' lips kissing him again as he opened the vial, coating his fingers with the fragrant and still warm oil.

Marcus spread his legs to give his beautiful lover better access to his needy core, still relaxed enough from his first climax that Erik could insert his digit easily without meeting any resistance.

Erik apparently had other plans though, taking his time with exploring Marcus' puckered rosebud from the outside, stroking it with so much tenderness that Marcus moaned, digging his nails into Erik's shoulders. “Erik, please, I need to feel you!” he begged and Erik soothed him with tender kisses on his closed eyes, all teasing and mischief gone from his voice as he said. “And you will feel me love, soon I promise you. But, please let me enjoy you. I've been waiting for you to trust me enough to give yourself to me for so long, and I really thought that I had destroyed all of the faith you had in me with my stupid and dangerous behavior. Please, Marcus, I want to make it as good for you as even possible.”

Marcus sighed and relaxed, letting his young prince take the lead once more. If Erik needed to go slow, he would let him set up his own pace even though he was so hard again that it was maddening. If Erik needed to know that Marcus trusted him, then Marcus would trust him and give himself to the Mattiacer who had been his enemy only a couple of days ago and who had become the most important person in his life within such a short amount of time.

“I trust you, Erik. We will do it your way,” he whispered, tilting his head to the side and offering his vulnerable throat to Erik's tender love bites while the cheeky digit now inched its way into his tight heat with so much care that Marcus moaned with his love for Erik overwhelming him again. “I love you so, Erik!” he gasped out, wrapping his legs around the slim waist in the knowledge that the water would make it easy for Erik to carry his weight.

He leaned his back against the tiles of the tub, enjoying the sensation of warm water sloshing around them, smooth lips sucking on his sensitive skin and Erik's digit thrusting in and out of his pulsing hole tenderly and ardently while their hard erections brushed against each other with every thrust.

“I love you, too, Marcus. More than you will ever know,” Erik breathed against his neck, pulling a heavy shiver from the Roman legatus. Marcus lost all track of time while Erik prepared him gently and thoroughly, soon adding a second finger and searching for the one special spot deep inside his beloved Roman that would make him see stars when being stimulated. Marcus was pretty sure that this was the first time for Erik to do this as much as it had been the first time for him giving a blowjob, but the young prince obviously was a skilled student and quick learner and it didn't take him long until he had found what he had been searching for, brushing teasingly over it and chuckling very pleased as Marcus cried out with both, surprise and arousal.

“Ah, yes, here we go, you like that, my beautiful Roman, don't you?” he murmured, repeating his movements again and then again until Marcus was only a panting and quivering mess, nearing his next height of ecstasy with every thrust against his sweet spot. “Erik, please, don't torture me, I need you!” he begged again and Erik pressed his lips on Marcus' mouth, mirroring with his tongue what he was doing with his fingers. He could use three fingers now easily and his own trembling proved to the blond Roman that Erik was as desperate to sheathe his manhood into his lover to the hilt as much as Marcus was to feel him deep inside his emptiness.

“Now, my handsome prince, do it now, take me! Don't let me wait any longer or it will be over before you started!” he ordered breathlessly, taking the vial with the oil and snaking his hand between their bodies to line Erik's throbbing length up with the oil. The water would wash away some of it, but it would still be enough to make the first intrusion as smoothly as possible.

Marcus had no intention to leave the tub and there would be other times where they would do it in a large and comfortable bed. Erik pulled his fingers out and shifted Marcus in his arms until the engorged head of his arousal gently pressed against Marcus now wide and loose rosebud. “By Jupiter, yes,” Marcus encouraged him, cupping Erik's cheeks with his hands and locking eyes with him.

The young Roman legatus could feel how special this moment was for his young Teuton prince and it was the same for him, feeling like the very first time although he had done it before.

But, never with someone who had meant the world to him.

Never with someone he would gladly die for to save him without even thinking.

Never with someone he was willing to give up everything that had been important for him so far just to make him happy.

Never with someone he had loved so much.

“I love you, Erik, more than life itself,” he said, looking deep in Erik's wonderful eyes, dark with his arousal and sparkling with the love the young Mattiacer felt for him.

“I love you Marcus, more than I ever thought I could love anybody,” Erik answered, his voice as sincere as Marcus had been as he slowly and tenderly entered the young Roman who had trapped not only him, but also his heart.

Marcus' eyes never left Erik's as they started to move, rocking gently against each other and burying the Teuton's hard shaft deeper and deeper inside the Roman's secret core with every move and every push, the damp air filled with the silent sounds of their gasps and moans proving so clearly their pleasure and excitement about their lovemaking to one another.

“Love you, love you so,” Marcus whispered between his pants and moans, giving himself to the man he loved without holding back anything. Erik's hands held him close and safe and Marcus' arms were wrapped around Erik's warm back as tightly as his legs. They were so close that not one single sheet of papyrus would have fitted between them and Marcus own erection brushed against the hard muscles of Erik's abdomen shifting underneath the smooth skin with each and every thrust. Marcus had never come just from the sensation of being taken, but he knew that he would come untouched this time even if Erik didn't manage to stimulate his most sensitive spot with his thrusts, just because it was him taking him and making love to him. To feel the young man he loved so deeply moving inside him that easily as if they were made just for each other aroused the blond Roman more than anything else had ever aroused him and he savored every thrust to the fullest.

He shouldn't have had to worry though, because Erik suddenly shifted his weight, changing the angle of his thrusts and by Jupiter, yes there it was, the hot white jolt of pleasure shooting from the end of his spine into every cell of his body as the engorged head of Erik's rock-hard cock hit his prostate. “Erik!” he cried out and Erik laughed happily and thrust in again with more force and speed now, watching eagerly Marcus' reaction to his attempts to pleasure him. Marcus' eyes fell shut as the sensation of the young man battering the sensitive knob in hidden in his tight heat became too much to stand any other kind of stimulation and he threw his head back and moaned loudly in time to Erik's onslaughts of his stamina.

And then, Erik lowered his mouth down on his throat again, just where his pulse was racing underneath the smooth skin, and Marcus' world exploded into a million glittering pieces.

His hoarse scream echoed in the air as he came undone and the strong waves of his painfully intensive ecstasy made him arch his back rhythmically with the fast jets of hot pleasure coating both of their connected bodies, painting their chests and abdomens with the creamy white proof of his complete and total satisfaction.

He heard vaguely Erik gasping out his name, his warm and damp breath ghosting over his oversensitive skin and Erik's hands unconsciously tightened their grip around his hips as the young prince found his own release, and the feeling of Erik spurting his seed against his sweet spot boosted Marcus own ecstasy in way he had never experienced before.

Marcus cried out again, clinging to Erik's strong shoulders as he shuddered and shivered through his incredible climax and when he was completely spent, dropping into a state of sated and drowsy contentment, he buried his face on Erik's neck, letting his young prince hold him and take care of him. Erik would never let him down again, never ever betray his faith he held in him again, Marcus now knew that for sure now.

His young Teuton prince loved him and together, they would be able to find Lioba and overcome every obstacle life would throw in their way, because their love was strong enough to stand every hardship and every fight.

“I love you, Erik,” he said, and the soft kiss pressed on his hair made hims smile against Erik's skin with happiness. “I know, Marcus. I love you, too,” his sweet young prince answered and that was all Marcus needed to know.


	26. The Mission Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik and Marcus leave Mogontiacum to search for Erik's sister Lioba. Malte and Jonas, two other Mattiacers and Erik's friends will come with them. They still have reservations and don't trust Marcus with Erik's well-being. Maybe, two young Roman officers can change that during their long rides and rather cold nights. And Marcus learns that Erik can be jealous sometimes, given a reason...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to continue with my special foursome today and will do that after posting this chapter, but, my beloved Roman Marcus Retus demanded my attention. He is eager to spend some cold nights with Erik in an uncomfortable tent as it seems. ;-)  
> This chapter is settled two days after chapter 25 and if you want to know more about the mentioned night Erik has so pleasant memories about, then you should read 'I Was Made For Loving You', the oneshot I have written about this special night.
> 
> Enjoy reading it and as always, please, leave kudos and comments if you liked it! Your feedback is the reward for us authors for spending hours with writing and what keeps us motivated to keep on writing.

It was still early and the weak morning sun had to fight hard against the dark-gray shadows looming over Mogontiacum as Erik climbed his virtuous gelding patiently waiting next to Marcus beautiful stallion pawing the ground with his hoofs.

Thunder silently blew his nostrils as his beloved owner did the same, climbing him with ease and Erik smiled at the Arab's eagerness to leave the camp and gallop threw the untamed wilderness of south Germania. The young Mattiacer was pretty sure that Thunder would be disappointed because they certainly wouldn't gallop, but make their way through the thick forests in a rather slow pace due to their with heavy packages loaded horses the four legionaries would lead at their reins with them, but he could understand the wonderful horse Marcus was riding, nonetheless, feeling the same eagerness to leave the fortified camp and ride through his beloved country instead of spending his time in the admittedly very luxurious and comfortable villa Marcus called his own. He didn't feel like a prisoner there any longer, but he was still a young Teuton, used to live surrounded only by trees and maybe a palisade trench and not thick and huge walls built of stone and bricks.

He smiled at his friend Malte who waited at his other side for their mission to begin, together with Jonas, his other close friend who had been chosen to accompany them, as well. Jonas was able to speak and understand enough Latin to communicate with the Romans as much as Malte was able to speak this language, and his cheeks were rosy from his excitement. Erik could see the hidden glances the four legionaries shot at him and his friends now and then, obviously still not completely convinced that the Mattiacers could be trusted.

Especially Patricius Hermolaus, the other young centurio apart from Severus accompanying them looked more oftentimes at Jonas and Malte than it would have been necessary. Erik grinned as he watched Jonas throwing his head back in a defiant gesture, glaring provocatively at the tall and handsome young Roman.

“He's good looking, isn't he?” he chuckled quietly in his mother tongue and Jonas blushed, now glaring reproachfully at Erik himself.

“This Roman is nothing but impudent! What does he think Malte and I are trying to do? Break free with you as soon as we have left the camp? It's not as if you would leave your Roman lover freely. Which I cannot understand, at all!” The younger one groused, shooting a hidden glance at Marcus who was giving some last orders to Marius standing beside his Arab.

“Okay, maybe I do can understand you a little bit. He is quite a catch for the eye,” he then admitted reluctantly and now, it was Erik's turn to blush. “Uhm, thank you, Jonas,” he murmured, but Jonas only snorted. “But, he is still Roman! And the only reason why Malte and I will do everything to make this mission a success is because of your sister, Erik. You'd better not forget that!”

“I'm sure he won't forget that, young Mattiacer. Neither will I forget that.” Marcus amused dark voice sounded from the other side, making Jonas flinch visibly. The crossbreed he was riding snorted as it sensed his rider's mood, stomping with its hoofs on the ground. “And thank you for the compliment,” Marcus added with sparks of laughter dancing around in his eyes.

Erik's heart missed a beat and he found himself grinning stupidly at his beautiful Roman, his mind filled with the memories of their wonderful night they had spent together with Rufus. They had needed the entire previous day for the preparations of their mission and Erik had had a special surprise for Marcus and Rufus for their last night in Mogontiacum. He felt the well-known desire rising in his groin and sighed, pushing the wonderful memories aside, focusing on his friend instead.

Jonas mumbled something unintelligible and it was clear that he had forgotten that Marcus was capable of speaking and understanding his mother tongue fluently. Erik had told him that the previous evening when Malte and Jonas had spent some time with him alone, but it was understandable that there was too much for both of his friends to digest to remember everything Erik had explained to them. Marcus smiled back at him, a brief and tender smile before he waved at the young centurio who had been able to annoy Erik's friend that much with only his looks.

“Patricius, you will make sure that this young gentleman here won't get lost during our ride,” he ordered the other Roman who grinned smugly at the upset brunet. “I can see that you have some experiences with horses, but I bet that you are not used to ride a whole day and the terrain is difficult to ride, as well. Patricius is an experienced rider and will help you in case you'll need help.”

Jonas didn't look rather pleased, but said nothing, only shot Erik another hurt look. Erik suppressed a smile, because his friend's behavior reminded him of his own when he first had met Marcus, and the way Patricius looked at the younger one made clear that the Roman appreciated what he saw. This mission would be entertaining, that much was sure. He seemed to be a young man who would do everything what's necessary to get what he wanted and as far as Erik could judge it, the centurio wanted Jonas. His younger friend would better get used to the thought of being 'courted' by a determined Roman, because Erik knew from his own experiences that there wouldn't be much Jonas could do against it and that he'd better give in and enjoy Patricius' courting.

Marcus waved at another legionary, an optio with the name Julius Demarcus with a level-headed nature. “Julius, you will take care of Malte. We most likely will have to stop more oftentimes than we would without our Teuton friends accompanying us and I want you to tell me if you think that he needs a break. I'm sure he won't tell us himself and neither will Jonas tell us. So, both of you have to watch them and look for signs of discomfort.”

Malte pressed his lips together. “We need to find Lioba as soon as possible. We won't have time for unnecessary breaks!” he snapped and Marcus raised one eyebrow at that. “I am the one in charge of that mission and I am the one deciding about breaks, Teuton,” he said, his voice calm but strict and Erik could see that Malte was impressed against his will. “I understand your impatience, but, if you want to be able to spend at least one hour in the saddle again tomorrow, you will do as told and obey my orders, understood?”

Malte pressed his lips to a thin line, staring the Roman legatus in his eyes. “You're only worried that you won't be able to fuck Erik tonight if you strain him too much during the day,” he said and Erik held his breath, his hands clenched around the reins of his horse in an unconscious gesture.

Marcus stared back, his face unreadable. “You are Erik's best friend and I'll take your words as a sign of your worries about your friend's well-being. The next time you say something like that, I won't be that generous again. So you'll better watch your mouth in the future, Teuton. If you ever dare talking to me this way again, you will find this sweet ass of yours kicked and sent back to your people faster than you can even imagine. And I wouldn't want to be in your shoes then, standing before Albin and having to explain to him why you're not with his son any longer. I promised your chief that I would bring back his son and his daughter to him, well and healthy, and I always keep my promises. You will do whatever I'll tell you to do and this without objection, is that clear?”

Malte nodded his head subdued, his gaze darting to Erik for help. Erik only shook his head. He knew that Malte had no reason to trust Marcus, but he knew Erik since their childhood and Erik's faith in the Roman actually should have been enough for him to trust him at least a little bit.

Marcus ignored the tall Mattiacer, clicking with his tongue and Thunder snorted excitedly, dancing forward towards the large gate. Erik's gelding followed the Arab as if dragged along by an invisible string and when Erik turned around in his saddle, he saw Julius following them with Malte. Patricius came after them together with Jonas who looked miserably and then Rufus, riding a vivid and beautiful mare beside Severus on his crossbreed. The two legionaries were the last ones, leading the horses with their cargo.

Erik turned around again to watch out where he was riding, silently thanking his beloved Roman that he hadn't punished his friend for his impudent words. He looked at Marcus from underneath his eyelashes and it was only then when he realized what Marcus had said. He frowned, pursing his lips.

“Sweet ass, Marcus? Really? When did you have time during our preparations to check Malte's backside out?” he demanded, finding the thought of _his_ Roman looking after other men rather disturbing, even if they were his friends.

Marcus didn't bother to look at him, but Erik could see that his sensitive mouth curled into a smug and cheerful grin, and the young Teuton was damn sure that the annoying Roman legatus' eyes were sparkling with mischief now. “It took you a rather long time to notice, my sweet young prince,” he drawled, finally looking at him.

The tenderness and passion Erik could see in the wonderful depths took his breath away. “Don't you worry, my defiant Teuton. Your ass is the sweetest ass walking on earth I've ever seen, and the only one I'm truly interested in,” he assured him, gently, winking at the young Mattiacer with his eye. “But, you don't expect me to walk around with closed eyes, do you?”

Erik made an offended sound, growling at his cheeky Roman. “Pffffftt! You better watch your mouth, Roman!” he snapped back. “Or you could find me being not in the mood to warm your bed during the next nights.” He tried hard to sound convincing and determined, but, the thought of not snuggling close to Marcus in the tent they would share was more scary than appealing and Erik knew that he most likely wouldn't be able to stay away from the man he loved so much.

Marcus only grinned, seeing right through his attempts to gouge him. “The rather cold spring nights will see to you sharing my bed and cuddling up to me perfectly, don't you doubt that, Erik,” he said unimpressed and Erik growled again, defeated and pouting, but not really angry. He knew that Marcus was right and apart from that, he loved Marcus far too much to be angry with him for a long time.

Marcus became serious again, not caring about Malte and Julius riding within earshot. “I love you, Erik, and only you. You really should know that by now. You don't have to worry about me looking after anybody else. My love for you is the reason why we go on that mission and why your friend is still coming with us instead of being sent back to your people.”

Erik smiled sheepishly at the Roman legatus riding beside him. “He's only worried about me. He is like my younger brother. We grew up together and he was the one who tried to keep me from attacking you. He said that we should ask for negotiations with you instead because you were one of the few good Romans.”

Marcus' face softened. “Yes, I know, Erik. I'm glad that he cares that much about you that he is willing to risk my anger. I don't bear a grudge against him. But, I cannot allow him to become too cheeky and demanding. I had to make clear that I am the one giving the orders right from the start.”

He shot a quick glance at his optio who was busied with watching Malte. The young Teuton obviously felt uncomfortable on his horse, not used to riding like all of Marcus' Romans were.

Erik followed his gaze, grinning. “His 'sweet ass' will be aching tonight, but it will keep him from making stupid plans, I guess,” he said, glad that his own backside seemed to endure their ride much better than the last time he had sat in the saddle of a horse. His gelding was calm and strode forward beside Marcus' stallion, unimpressed by the rustling branches, birds and little animals crossing their path and Erik enjoyed the peaceful morning and their ride much more than he had expected it.

Marcus' carefree grin deepened and Erik's heart made a happy flip as he watched the handsome features of his beautiful Roman. “I hope so, Erik. I hope so. We will see to making his ass aching enough that all he can think of tonight will be lying down and getting some rest, so he won't hear the sweet noises I'm determined to pull from you in our tent when I'll see to this aching sweet ass of yours, my wonderful prince.”

Erik blushed, but smiled at Marcus. “Sounds like a good plan to me,” he agreed and their happy laughter was still audible in the fresh air of the early spring morning a rather long time after they had passed the small clearing where Marcus had made this tempting suggestion.


	27. Romans, Celts And Teutons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcus and his group are on their way to search Erik's sister. The unfamiliar way of traveling is not the only thing Erik has to deal with...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lovely GoForGoals asked for an update of this story, so here it is, sweetie. 
> 
> I don't know if this chapter is any good and if anybody else still wants to read this story, but my Roman legatus Marcus and my defiant Teuton Erik are still close to my heart.

Marcus chose a slow pace for their ride just like Erik had expected it. The Roman legatus rode in front of their small group and Erik didn't try to talk to him anymore, aware of the fact that their voices would be audible within a rather wide range. It was better to be safe than sorry, his own tribe wouldn't attack them, but, there were others that might become a threat, robbers or the members of other tribes for example and maybe even Celts from the other side of the big river Rhenus.

Marcus had led them to the fortified camp Castellum Mattiacorum at the other side of the river Rhenus, at first, talking to the commander Sebastianus Caelius and telling him about his absence and the reason for their trip, before they had made their way back over the river again and in the direction of the city Augusta Treverorum. Erik wasn't so sure why his Roman lover was so determined to start with their search in this city, but he trusted him enough to not question his decision, enjoying the surprisingly warm spring day instead, while he followed Marcus' proud stallion along the small path on his own vivacious gelding.

When the young Mattiacer turned his head to look at his two friends, he found them furtively pulling faces due to the unfamiliar way of traveling, and he suppressed an amused snicker, knowing that Malte and Jonas would have problems with sitting down on their butts when they would take a break. But, instead of asking for this break, they preferred to suffer in silence, shooting reproachful looks at their guards who simply grinned back, unimpressed by their defiant behavior and snappy answers to their polite questions.

Erik would have an aching backside, too, but, he wouldn't complain about it, because after all, they were searching for his sister, and the least he could do was to not make it harder for Marcus than it already was. He was also reasonable enough to know when he had reached his limits and after two more hours, he pressed his heels into the flanks of his horse to close up to the blond Roman.

“Marcus?” he asked silently. The Roman legatus turned his head to smile at him. “Yes, Erik?”

“Could we please take a break? I need to stretch my legs for a couple of minutes,” he said, earning another tender smile from his lover. It was apparent that Marcus appreciated his request and his honesty. “Of course, Erik. As soon as we reach a clearing that is large enough, we will take a break.” he said and Erik sighed in relief.

Marcus narrowed his eyes in concern. “Your sweet backside?”

“More my legs. They start to cramp. Besides, I'm not used to the rocking and nature is calling,” Erik admitted with a slight blush, expecting an amused chuckle, but Marcus stayed serious. “Yes, that's normal, Erik, but it will fade during the next days when you're getting used to sit in a saddle for hours, don't worry. How bad is it?”

“I will make it to the next clearing as long as it won't take more than half an hour, I guess.”

“No, it shouldn't take that long, don't worry,” Marcus assured him, gently, and for the next couple of minutes, they rode side by side in companionable silence, enjoying the peace and the cheerful twittering of the birds building their nests in the large trees.

Marcus had been right with what he had said, they found a clearing large enough for their group after only one more mile, and there was also a small creek murmuring silently its way along the edge of the green meadow where the horses could quench their thirst. They stopped near the creek and Erik climbed from his gelding with a small groan.

Malte dismounting his horse next to him snorted with contempt when he watched the Roman military commander stretching his legs and his back after getting out of Thunder's saddle and back to the ground. “Your Roman seems to be the one needing a break, not us.”

Erik looked up from his task of drying the back and the neck of his gelding with a bundle of green grass he had just began with, shooting his friend a disapproving glance. “It was me asking for a short break, Malte, not him. You should stretch your legs and your back, as well. We will leave this clearing soon enough again. And don't forget to dry your horse. We can't take the saddles off in case we need to leave rather quickly, but we can at least try to make it more comfortable for our horses.”

He waited until Malte had plucked a bunch of grass to do the same what he had done, before leaving him to his own devices and making his way across the clearing to the other side where some bushes would hide him from prying eyes when he saw to his bodily needs. Marcus hadn't had to teach him to always see to his horse first, he had learned this lesson after his failed attempt to escape, and he looked back to reassure himself that his gelding was dry and content, nibbling at the fresh grass near the creek.

He was halfway at the other side of the meadow when Marcus stopped him. “You shouldn't go out of sight alone and on your own, Erik,” he said. “I trust you and I don't think that you would try to escape, but, I don't know this region as good as I know the area around our camp and I don't want to risk anything. Please, understand that.”

Erik chewed on his lip. “I understand you, Marcus, but I'd prefer to go with someone else but you,” he admitted, sheepishly. Marcus nodded with a tender look that told Erik that his Roman lover didn't feel offended. “I thought so. You can ask Malte or Jonas if you'd like to.”

To his own surprise, he didn't feel comfortable by this thought, either. They were close friends, but, they had always teased him because of his shyness when it came to such things, and they also ranted about Marcus the entire time and Erik was getting tired of that. He knew that Malte and Jonas meant good, but it hurt him that they insulted the man he loved so much on every occasion that presented itself.

“Maybe, Rufus could come with me?” he asked, uncertainly. “He knows how to defend himself as much as your legionaries do.”

Marcus seemed to be content with his choice, because he nodded with a smile, beckoning the red-haired Celt to come over to them. Rufus who had seen to a light meal pushed his bag into Severus' hands and headed across the clearing. “You need me, Marcus?”

The blond Roman jerked his head at his Teuton prince. “Erik needs you. Please, make sure that he will come back to me in one piece. Times are still uncertain, and this region is unfamiliar to all of us.”

“Of course, Marcus.” Rufus followed Erik to the thick bushes that would grant him some privacy, and the young Mattiacer found himself smiling fondly at the older one. First, he had loathed and despised him, being full of prejudices and hate, but this had changed over the last days and since their wonderful night, he felt almost as close to Rufus as he felt to Marcus. The Celt had seen him sick and desperate, he had held his head and taken care of his bruises, he had listened to him and comforted him, and he had never shown anything else than kindness and understanding, no matter what Erik had thrown at him. As things stood, he was as much Erik's friend as Malte and Jonas, even though he had met him only a couple of days ago. But, Erik trusted Rufus and he knew that the young slave would protect him with his own life if necessary.

“Did you fight with your friends, Erik?” Rufus inquired, quietly, while he observed the dark forest surrounding them, his back covering Erik's figure.

Erik sighed. “I know that they are only worried, but they just won't stop insulting Marcus.”

“That's understandable, Erik. They don't know him. They are young and surely didn't meet many Romans so far,” Rufus stated, calmly, waiting patiently until Erik was ready to join the others again.

“But, they know me. They could trust me, at least a little bit. They hurt me with their behavior,” Erik pouted, and the red-haired man chuckled. “They probably think that you lost your common sense because you fell in love with a Roman. Give them some time, and they will see that you're right with what you say about Marcus. But, they won't change your mind if you'll continue avoiding them, young prince. Talk to your friends and show them that there is nothing they have to be worried about.”

Erik mused about that. “You're probably right, Rufus – as always,” he added with a side-long glance at Marcus' personal slave and friend. “Will you be alright?” he then asked, sincerely.

The Celt with the handsome features stroked briefly his arm. “Yes, I'll be fine, Erik the Mattiacer. There is nothing you have to be worried about. Now, go to your friends, I will explain to Marcus why you sit with them instead of him.”

Erik pressed a chaste kiss on his cheek, not caring about the astonished glances of his friends. “Thank you, Rufus. You're a true friend,” he whispered, gratefully, before walking to his childhood friends and sit down beside them. Rufus was right, he had a lot to tell them and he would make sure that Malte and Jonas would listen to him.

 

\----------------------------------------------

 

“Do you know why your Roman wants to start our serach in Augusta Treverorum?” Malte asked him when he sat down, handing his friend a slice of bread and cheese. Erik took the food, shrugging his shoulders. “No, I don't, but, he will tell me what I need to know when the time is right,” he said, biting into the cheese.

Jonas watched the Roman legatus laughing with his centurion about something they couldn't hear from the place where they sat. “He does this only to get you into his bed,” he groused, averting his eyes with a slight blush when Patricius caught him staring, winking with his right eye at him.

Erik reminded himself that he needed to stay calm. “Jonas, Marcus wouldn't need to search for Lioba to get me into his bed. He could have made me a slave and forced me into his bed if he had wanted to. It would have been his right. But, he didn't. I was his hostage, yes, but he treated me as a welcome guest, and he never touched me without my permission. Plus, I would have understood it if he had refused to accompany me. But, he promised me to search for Lioba and bring her back, and he doesn't deserve your mistrust and your hate. He is not like the Romans you heard about.”

Malte pulled a face. “He made you a prisoner and his hostage!”

Erik scowled at him. “Yes, after I had been that stupid to attack him, even trying to kill him. He could have thrown me into his dungeon, tortured me. He didn't. I was wrong, not Marcus. The truth is that we are lucky to have him as the commander of Mogontiacum. My father realized that and if you don't want to believe and trust me, then you should at least trust and believe my father.”

This silenced his friends for a while, and Erik suppressed a smile when he caught Jonas staring at Patricius again while Malte stubbornly avoided Julius' amused gaze.

“And what about his slave? This – Celt? You know that they are more than just owner and slave, don't you?” Malte finally challenged him and Erik carefully kept his face impassive as he shrugged his shoulders. He really liked his friends, but there was no way that he would tell them about the special night he had spent with Marcus and Rufus.

“As I told you before, Romans are all different and so are Celts. There are good Romans and bad Romans, and there are good Celts and bad Celts just as much as there are good and bad guys among the different tribes of us Teutons. And yes, I know that Marcus and Rufus shared intimacy before Marcus met me. This none of your business and it isn't my business, either. The past is exactly that: the past. You should really stop fighting against each and every little thing and start to cooperate. I thought that you were two reasonable grown up men and not small children in their defiant phase!” Erik's voice had become louder near the end of his speech, and Patricius, Severus and Julius looked over to them with narrowed eyes while Marcus turned his head away to hide his amusement, but, Erik had seen his smile, nonetheless.

“We're only worried about you, Erik!” Jonas defended himself and Erik laid his hand upon his shoulder. “I know, Jonas, and I appreciate your friendship and your concern, but, you'd better worry about the things that could happen on our way instead of asking me nosy questions about my private life. I love Marcus and he loves me. Rufus is my friend as much as he is Marcus' friend and you won't treat him like a slave, understood? Marcus once offered him his freedom and Rufus declined his offer because he cares about him, deeply, and because he didn't want somebody else not as trustworthy as he himself is come near him and serve him.”

There was another long silence, but then, Malte and Jonas nodded reluctantly. “We will try to trust your Roman legatus and his honorable intentions. But, don't expect us to fall for one of these cheeky and impudent Romans ourselves just because they are good-looking warriors!” Jonas said and Erik carefully hid his smile as he answered as sincerely as he was able to: “Of course not, Jonas. Patricius and Julius will see to your safety and your well-being, but you don't have to love them. I would never ever even think that something like this could happen. As long as you'll stop grousing and arguing the entire time, I'll be fine with everything.”

Malte and Jonas shot him a suspicious look, but Erik gazed back, innocently, laughing inwardly, because if his assumption was right, then his two friends were already lost and it would only be a matter of time until they realized that, as well.


	28. The Inn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcus and his companions are exhausted after a long day in the saddle and search for the place where they can stay for the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear GoForGoals, dear funfan, I hope that this chapter and my decision to gift this fic to you, my biggest supporters ever for this story, will make up for the loss of Wild Wild West at least a little bit. I actually should have worked on my Wraith stories, but I had this idea and wanted to write it down before I would forget it again. Apart from that, I was in the mood for Rome and my beloved Marcus Retus yesterday and today.
> 
> My dear readers, I want to thank you for the feedback this story has gotten for the last chapter. This is one of my own favorites and each kudo, comment and bookmark for my beloved Roman legatus and his Teuton prince makes me totally and utterly happy, so please, keep it up! This chapter is one of the longest of this story, I hope you will enjoy it. Please, let me know!

The rest of the morning and most of the afternoon went by, uneventful. Marcus let the group ride in a rather slow pace, and they took two more breaks in between to let the horses nibble at the fresh grass for a while and the riders stretch their legs and drink some water.

Marcus himself was used to spending an entire day in the saddle and so were Rufus, Severus, Patricius, Julius and his two experienced legionaries, but he could see whenever he turned his head to look back, that Malte and Jonas were in pain due to the long ride, even though they tried to hide it. Patricius' attempts to teach the shorter brunet with the surprisingly clear gray-blue eyes how to sit more comfortable on his horse were met with short, snappy answers and defiant glances, the beautiful Teuton's eyes shooting cold blue fire at the handsome centurion.  
His centurion didn't seem to be discouraged by Jonas' impolite behavior, though, he only grinned at him, taking revenge for all the growling and snapping by making the younger man blush as he bent over to him now and then, whispering probably rather blatant compliments about his tortured backside into his ear.

Malte was politer than his friend and companion, being more level-headed by nature. His behavior couldn't be called really friendly, but he at least listened to Julius' advice, shifting his weight in the saddle and rolling his shoulders like Marcus' optio had shown him. Julius even pulled a smile from him when he pointed at a small rabbit scampering between the trees, but when the tall Teuton realized what he was doing, he tried to make an annoyed face and scowled at his dark-haired Roman guard and protector.

“I really hope that they will give up behaving like this sooner rather than later,” Erik riding beside him sighed. “They should have realized by now that you and your men are not our enemies.”

Marcus chuckled, tenderly. “They will, don't worry. But, where would be the fun if they gave in that easily? Patricius enjoys himself by trying to tear down Jonas' walls and conquer his heart, and even though Julius isn't as straight forward as my centurion, but he is as tenacious as a dog fighting for its bone, and Malte won't have no choice in this matter. I don't know what it is making us poor Romans fall for beautiful young Teutons each time one of us meets one of them, but your Teutonic defiance is really hard to resist.” He winked at his younger lover who blushed furiously and tried to look indignantly and offended. Of course, his sweet Erik failed miserably, and he finally gave up his attempts and laughed, cheerfully. The golden sparks of amusement and happiness dancing in his eyes when he looked at him took Marcus' breath away as they always did.

“I could say the same about you!” he growled, but with only little emphasis, and Marcus' love for the brunet overwhelmed him once more. “How are us poor Teutons supposed to resist the courting of a determined Roman?”

“It's a good thing that this strange attraction between Romans and soldiers is two-sided, isn't it?” Marcus mused to distract himself from his urge to bend over and kiss Erik senseless. They exchanged a tender glance before Erik focused on his gelding once more, pulling unconsciously a face because of the ache in his back and his legs.

Marcus saw it and frowned. He was eager to get as fast as possible to Augusta Treverorum, but he knew that enough was enough. He turned around in his saddle and waved at Severus and Rufus to arouse their attention. They were engrossed in a serious talk, but when they noticed his waving, both men pressed their heels into the flanks of their mounts to close up to Marcus and Erik.

“Severus, Rufus, I want you to search for a place where we can stay the night. Erik and his friends need a proper rest or they won't be capable of riding any more mile tomorrow.”

Severus nodded. “Of course, Marcus, we'll see what we can find. I think I remember a small village nearby, at least an inn, where we could stay the night. It would be better for them to sleep in a real bed during the first night after having been in a saddle that long.”

Marcus nodded, contentedly. “Very well. I hope that you'll come back with good news, then,” he said, watching his centurion and his personal slave disappear in a cloud of dust as they clapped spurs to their horses, galloping along the small path until they were out of sight.

 

\-------------------------------------------------

 

It was more a hamlet than a real village, a few typical Teuton houses on a large clearing nestled against the gently ascending slope of a green hill. Cackling fowls stalked around between the houses, and there was a yard secured with a fence at the other side of the clearing with several pigs and three cows.

The hamlet looked peacefully in the red light of the setting sun, but Marcus kept his eyes open and didn't let go of his attention, ready to defend his group against an attack coming from an ambush.

Severus' memory hadn't failed him, the small village included an inn, the biggest house placed in the center of the village and surrounded by the other, smaller buildings. It was solidly built, made of huge wooden trunks, and the tall and broad man awaiting them before the inn was definitely not a Teuton, but a Roman, which caught Marcus off guard at first. He wore Teuton clothing, but his features and his dark curls gave the Roman origin away. The man watching them approach his house with narrowed eyes looked attentive but not unfriendly and Marcus was willing to give his hospitality a try.

When Thunder had almost reached him, Marcus brought his stallion to a halt and dismounted him.

“Good evening, Roman. My centurion told me that your house is open for travelers?”

The innkeeper let his eyes wander over the blond legatus' figure for one moment before he nodded his head in a respectful manner. “It is indeed, Marcus Retus. Your reputation precedes you. You are well-known in this region and everybody is speaking of you with respect and friendliness. My house will be your house tonight, so please come in and make yourself comfortable.”

The Roman who apparently had decided to live his life among Teutons didn't seem to wonder about Marcus' ability to acknowledge him as a Roman, he just beckoned them inside his inn. “My brother-in-law and my son will take care of your horses, there is a yard at the back of my inn where they will be safe for tonight. Your men look as if they needed something to eat and to drink.”

Marcus watched a young man and a boy in his teenage years taking the reins of Rufus' and Severus' mounts and turned his head to Erik. “Please, Erik go inside and wait there for me with the others. You know that Thunder doesn't take it well when strangers approach him.”

Erik smiled at him. “Of course, Marcus, I will wait inside the house for you and make sure that Malte and Jonas will behave in your absence.” The young Teuton prince shot his two friends a strict look, and the young men followed him, quietly, too exhausted from the long ride to object and protest. Marcus waited until the group had entered the large house, except for Severus, who stayed with him, taking the reins of the pack horses. The teenage boy holding the reins of four of their horses stared at the beautiful Arab in awe and wonder.

“You're horse is wonderful, sir!” he exclaimed and Marcus smiled at the boy. “Thank you. If you promise me to be careful, then I will introduce you to each other. Thunder doesn't let himself be touched by strangers.”

The boy with a shock of straw-blond hair pursed his lips. “That's understandable. Arab's are nervous horses.” Marcus raised an eyebrow. “You can see that Thunder is an Arab, boy?” he asked, amazed.

The boy nodded. “Yes, sir. My father taught me the differences between the horses of the travelers coming to us.”

He started off towards the yard his father had mentioned with the four horses in tow, and Marcus followed him with Severus and the other mounts. The boy's older uncle was already busied with drying the horses he had led to the yard, when they reached the small parcel. “What's your name, boy?” Marcus inquired, taking the saddle from Thunder's back.

“My name is Frowin, sir, and the name of my uncle is Iwo.” the boy said, his cheeks reddening with joy because the Roman commander of an important camp wanted to know his name. Marcus smiled at his excitement. “Frowin, that means 'clever friend', right? And Iwo means 'friend of the jew tree' if I remember correctly.”

Frowin stared at him with his mouth hanging open. “You know the meaning of Teuton names, sir?” he stammered and Marcus couldn't help but ruffle his hair. “Some of them, yes. And please, don't call me sir. Marcus will do just fine. And this is my centurion Severus,” he explained, and Severus smiled at the blond boy. “Hello Frowin, your name suits you!”

“Uh, wow, thank you, si... Marcus, Severus!” Frowin beamed at them before finally remembering his duties. Together, the horses were seen to rather quickly, and Thunder sensing his master's liking for the boy allowed Frowin to feed him with an apple and caress his nose, snorting silently into his palm. “He likes you!” Marcus stated, patting the shimmering black neck of his stallion. “Frowin told me that he will sleep near the yard tonight to watch you. You will be my good boy and be nice to him, Thunder, won't you?” he murmured into the Arab's twitching ear, and Thunder bent his head as if he wanted to nod his agreement, snorting again.

When they were sure that the horses would be fine for the night, Marcus and Severus waved at Iwo and Frowin and made their way to the front of the inn. “I'm curious about his father's story. Romans do live in Germania on their own, but I was surprised myself when I found out that the innkeeper is a Roman. I only knew about the hamlet and the inn, but not who the owner is.”

Marcus shrugged his shoulders. “We will find out, soon, I guess. I'm hungry and thirsty, and I am glad that we don't have to spend the first night in our tents. Erik needs a bed to sleep in and so do Malte and Jonas.”

Severus shot him a sidelong glance. “I don't think that they will admit that, freely. They will fight and argue and tell us that they'd rather sleep on the hard floor,” he snorted and Marcus chuckled. “I won't bet with you, my friend, because I'm sure that you would win this bet. Come on, let's see to filling our stomachs, it smells tempting.”

Severus nodded, holding the door for his commander, and Marcus straightened his shoulders and stepped inside the house, greeted by the warm yellow light of a friendly open hearth and his beloved Mattiacer sitting at a large table and smiling tenderly at him.

They had gone through the first day without any real problems and Marcus allowed himself to relax a little bit. They would be safe for the night as it seemed and this might be a good sign for the rest of their journey, he only had to believe in it.

 

\---------------------------------------------------

 

The innkeeper approached him as soon as Marcus had sat down next to Erik who held a mug in both hands, sipping from it with a delighted expression on his face.

“We have cervisia and stew from the wild hogs, I hope that this will be fine with you, Commander,” he said, and Marcus let out a sound of delight. “More than fine, thank you. What's your name?”

The Roman bowed slightly before him. “Flavius Publius, Commander.”

Marcus nodded thoughtfully. “It's Marcus for you, Flavius. I really could do with your stew and some cervisia. Plus, I would like you to join us at the table and tell us your story.” He eyed him with pursed lips. “I'm sure it will be quite interesting.”

Flavius barked a laugh. “Yes, it is indeed. I will hurry with the stew and the cervisia, Marcus,” he agreed and it didn't take long until he had placed a large bowl with steaming, deliciously smelling stew before each member of their group. Marcus' men started to eat the second the bowl stood before them, their approving humming sounding through the air. Erik followed their example with a happy sigh while Malte and Jonas just stared into their bowls with grim faces. It was obvious that they had hoped that the innkeeper would be a Teuton and not a Roman, and Flavius being their host tonight obviously had diminished their appetite.  
They sat all together at the large table, Marcus and Erik in the middle of the large side close to the window front with Rufus at Erik's left side and Severus at Marcus' right side. The two legionaries were sitting beside Rufus and Severus, their gazes wandering to the door and the windows now and then.  
Malte, Jonas, Patricius and Julius sat opposite them near the counter of the inn, and the two young Teutons looked as if they had bitten into a sour citron. Marcus was curious whether his two officers would be able to solve the problem of Malte and Jonas fighting against everyone and everything or if they would give up their tries, annoyed about their impoliteness.

“Eat, Jonas. You need your strength for tomorrow. Apart from that, it is quite delicious, the best stew I've eaten in a rather long time,” Patricius said when he noticed that Jonas hadn't picked up the spoon. His voice was calm – too calm. Marcus knew from experiences that this was a bad sign. His centurion apparently was truly pissed off after a long day of Jonas snapping at him like mongrel.

The young Teuton turned his head, his expression defiant as always. “I'm not hungry,” he objected.

“That's a pity. You'll have to eat without being hungry, then, Teuton,” Patricius only stated, unimpressed.

Erik beside Marcus made a sound that reminded suspiciously of a gleeful snicker, even though he tried to let it sound like a cough.

“And what will happen if I don't eat?” Jonas hissed, unaware of the storm concocting over his head.

“I'll have to spoon-feed you, then, Teuton, to make sure that you will be able to ride again tomorrow.” Before Jonas knew what happened to him, he found himself sitting in the centurion's lap with a spoon filled with hot stew being shoved into his mouth just when he had opened it to protest.

“Patr...hrgmpf, let....grrmmph, huh, huh, go of me!!” Jonas yelled, his face burning deep-red with anger and embarrassment when he had swallowed and caught his breath.

“No.” The next spoon found its way into the younger one's mouth, and Jonas had no other choice than to chew and swallow, his eyes fixed on the door, desperately avoiding the stunned glances of his companions watching the spectacle. When he had gulped down the huge portion, he tried to slip from Patricius' lap, beating against the Roman's chest with his fists. “Let go of me, damn Roman! I'm not a child needing to be spoon-fed!” he groused. Patricius' eyebrow traveled up. “I've gotten another impression, Teuton. Your behavior is more than childish. You need to eat to regain some nutrients and strength. I thought that you would be interested in saving Erik's sister, but you're selfishly dwelling in self-pity instead.”

Jonas blushed and cast his eyes down. “Please, let me go. I will eat on my own,” he mumbled, uncomfortably shifting his weight. Patricius' eyes lit up and his left arm embracing Jonas pulled his prey closer to his chest. “You've had your chance, Jonas,” he declined his request. “I like you sitting in my lap.”

This time, Erik's attempt to cover his chuckle with a cough failed miserably. Jonas scowled at his friend, looking hurt and misunderstood. “Can I at least eat on my own?” he finally asked, defeated, and after one moment in which Patricius considered him thoughtfully, the centurion nodded his head, handing him the spoon. “I expect the bowl to be empty when you're finished, Jonas.”

Jonas bit his lip but nodded and started to eat, and after one more moment, Patricius picked up his spoon and did the same, unimpressed by Jonas fidgeting in his lap.

Marcus looked at Malte who had paled when Patricius had taken matters in his own hands, hurrying to take his spoon and gobble down his stew. The blond legatus grinned at Julius who looked disappointed because of the missed chance of getting the opportunity to do the same with Malte what his centurion had done with Jonas. Julius sighed, resigning himself to his fate that he would have to wait for another chance to get closer to the handsome Mattiacer and focused on his bowl instead.

The Roman military commander looked around to make sure that his companions were all safe and sound, enjoying their meal, and then, he focused his attention on Flavius who had sat down at the small side of the table, watching the happenings with a hidden smile on his face. “Flavius, how came that you became the innkeeper of a small Teuton hamlet?” he asked, curiously, and Flavius took a sip from his own cervisia.

“I once was a merchant, and my business was trading with leather and pelts. I came here in this region on a regular basis and somehow, I managed to win the trust of my Teuton trading partners. Maybe, because I never tried to deceive them, maybe because I learned their language. Maybe both of them. About fifteen years ago, I was robbed by a group of outlaws, and they left me lying bleeding in the dirt to die. I was severely wounded, my goods stolen, and I lost consciousness several times. When I woke up again, I lay on a cart and a beautiful young woman wiped my face. She and her father had found me and they brought me to this hamlet, where he was the keeper of the inn. They saw to my injuries and nursed me, Sigrun fighting for my life in a way I'm sure no one else would have done for me. It took several months for me to heal, completely, and when I was well enough to leave this hamlet, I found myself unable to do so, because Sigrun had trapped my heart. I gave up my life as a merchant, gladly, because there was nothing in my old home I would have missed, and Sigrun's father accepted me in his family as if I was his own flesh and blood. He gave me his older daughter's hand and offered me to become his right hand man. Ever since these happenings, I live here ,and the people of this hamlet have become my family. I am one of them and none of them ever treated me like a stranger or a hated Roman. I am happier here in this village than I ever was in my old Roman life and I call myself lucky that the robbers attacked me and took my goods. Without them, I had never met my wonderful wife and her family. Sigrun and my father-in-law Gerwin visit her younger sister in the neighbor settlement for a couple of days, her sister has given birth to a son the day before yesterday. Otherwise, you would have met them. Iwo, Frowin and I see to the inn during their absence.”

Flavius took another huge sip from his cervisia and silence fell over the room while Marcus and his companions thought about what the former merchant had told them. Erik searched for his hand underneath the table and Marcus took it, tenderly stroking his palm with his thumb. He felt pleasantly full from the stew and the cervisia, and he could see that the other men sitting at the table felt as tired as he felt himself. Jonas had fallen asleep at Patricius' shoulder, forgetting his hate and defiance in his sleep and snuggling close to the solid frame offering warmth, shelter and comfort after a long and exhausting day. The young centurion held him close, a tender expression in his eyes whenever he looked at the brunet with the from the warmth rosy cheeks.

Flavius chuckled when he noticed the sleeping young man. “You must be exhausted after a long day in the saddle. I will show you where all of you can sleep. I have only two rooms for travelers, but I am sure that we will find a place to sleep for all of you.”

He stood up, taking the bowls and Marcus followed his example, stretching his arms over his head. “Flavius is right. Come on, guys, it's time for bed.”


	29. Sharing Beds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcus and his companions have found an inn where they can spend the first night of their journey, now, they want to make themselves comfortable for the night. The only problem is that there are only two rooms with two beds in each room...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My wonderful readers, I'm in the mood for my Roman legatus and I wanted to update this story before the next week starts again. I hope you will enjoy the next chapter of one of the stories very close to my heart, please keep up your wonderful feedback and tell me what you think about this chapter. Your kudos and lovely comments mean so much to me! A huge thank you to all of you for your support! :-)

Flavius even had a rather modern privy in a small stall behind his house, something Erik was deeply grateful for. The Roman innkeeper of the Teuton hamlet had chuckled when he had shown it to him, winking with his left eye. “I'm too much Roman to deny myself this luxury,” the older man had explained. “My father-in-law was skeptical at first, but we have Romans staying overnight now and then, and they appreciate their privacy. Some of the Roman merchants stay on a regular basis, accepting that they have to take an indirect route just to visit our inn.”

Erik had grinned at him, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. “Yeah, I have to admit that I have gotten used to Roman bathrooms and toilets rather quickly,” he had said, and Flavius had laughed and patted his shoulder. “I can imagine.”

Then, he had become serious again. “Marcus Retus is a good man, Erik. I can see how much he loves you, and he will never let you down.”

Erik's blush had increased, but he had nodded his head, looking the broadly built Roman straight into his eyes. “Yes, I know, Flavius. I love him just as much as he loves me, and I will always stand by his side and fight for our people living in peace together with him.”

Flavius had smiled at him and nodded, contentedly, before leaving him alone, and now, Erik was on his way back to the entrance to the inn. When he stepped over the threshold, he saw Patricius gently shaking Jonas awake. His friend groaned and pushed his nose deeper into the crook of the centurion's neck, unwilling to wake up, but when he realized what he was doing in his dazed state, he jerked awake and flinched back. Patricius chuckled and pulled him close again, ignoring Jonas' weak attempts to free himself. He murmured something into Jonas' ear Erik couldn't hear and after one moment, Jonas gave up his struggling and listened to what the older man said, his lips pursed to a pout.

Erik suppressed a grin and stepped to Marcus who discussed the sleeping order with Flavius. “I will stay with my son and my nephew. It is unlikely that someone will come and try to steal your horses, but better be safe than sorry. Your two legionaries can stay here in the taproom near the hearth, I have two thick straw mats for them.”

Marcus wrapped his arm around Erik's shoulder, but kept his eyes on Flavius' face as he nodded. “Yes, that will do nicely,” he agreed. “You said that you have two rooms?” The other Roman nodded. “Yes, two rather big bedrooms with two larger beds. We don't have more than four travelers at once oftentimes, but we will extend in the future. I could see to more straw mats to put them onto the ground, but this would take a while.”

Marcus shook his head. “We are all used to share beds and blankets, soldiers have to do that oftentimes, so this won't be a problem, Flavius, thank you. We're glad and more than grateful that we can sleep in proper beds instead having to sleep on the hard ground in our tents.” He turned to his men still sitting at the table and waiting for his orders. Erik could see Marcus' gaze traveling thoughtfully over the faces of his officers and the two young Teutons, before he pursed his lips. “Alright, Severus, you will share the bed with Rufus and the room with Julius and Malte. Erik and I will share the room with Patricius and Jonas.”

The two Mattiacers gasped out, opening their mouths to protest, eyes wide in something akin to panic. “B-b-but, M-m-m-malte and I-I-I c-c-c-an share a b-b-bed!” Jonas cried out, which caused the taller man still holding him close to growl with impatience. “You heard my commander's words. You will share the bed with me, Mattiacer! There won't be any discussions about it!” Patricius snarled and Jonas' eyes darted to Erik, a desperate plea visible in them.

Erik felt pity with Jonas, but he shook his head. Marcus was in charge of this mission, and he surely had his reasons for his decision. Jonas and Malte still acted defiantly, and it wouldn't be good to leave them to their own devices and alone with each other. This would only increase their defiance and their mistrust towards Romans.

Marcus crossed his arms before his chest and Erik felt cold all of a sudden, missing the warmth around his shoulder. “You will be safe with Julius and Patricius. My men would never force themselves upon you. The worst thing happening will be you feeling an arm around you to warm you and keep you safe, so stop behaving like a shrinking violet, Jonas! I thought you consider yourself a warrior? Patricius and Julius are responsible for you during our journey, and this also during the nights. How are they supposed to do that if they're not with you?”

Malte chewed on his lip, eyeing his bodyguard from the side. “Julius could share the bed with Patricius and the room with us!” he suggested, even though Erik could see that the prospect of sleeping in the same bed with the good-looking optio didn't deter him as much as it deterred Jonas.

“No!!” Julius and Patricius exclaimed at the same time, exchanging a grin. Marcus' expression could only be called woolfishly and Erik was amazed about this new side of his Roman lover he had just discovered.

“I want to keep a close eye on you, Jonas, therefore, you will share the room with Erik and me. And no, Erik will sleep nowhere else than in my arms. Rufus and Severus will be capable of dealing with Malte and I consider it my duty to watch your behavior myself, young Teuton.”

Erik almost forgot to breathe when realization suddenly hit him. Of course, Marcus didn't want Rufus having to watch them cuddling after last night. Rufus might have accepted Marcus' love for Erik, but, it must still hurt him, and Marcus didn't want his dear friend to suffer more than necessary - which would be the case if he had to share the room with them. But, Marcus couldn't admit the true reason behind his decision, and so, Erik took a deep breath and said: “You heard it, Jonas. As Marcus said, you consider yourself a warrior, and warriors don't question their commander's wise orders. Stop pouting, I'm sure that you will be able to endure one night sleeping in the same bed with Patricius, just like you survived sitting in his lap.”

Jonas blushed furiously, shooting Erik a hurt and annoyed glance, but eventually resigned himself to his fate without further arguments and soon, they were all settled in their rooms, the two legionaries on the mats before the hearth and Erik, Marcus, Jonas and Patrcius in one of the bedrooms.

Erik hadn't missed Flavius' amusement while he had listened to their discussion as a quiet observer, and also not Rufus' grateful look about staying in the other room with Severus during the night instead of having to watch Marcus and Erik. Severus had looked rather pleased by the prospect of cuddling with the red-haired Celt, confirming Erik's suspicion that the young centurion had some feelings for Marcus' personal slave.

Maybe, Rufus would be open now for loving someone else, someone who returned his feelings the way he deserved it, at least Erik hoped that the man who had become his friend as much as he was Marcus' friend would do that one day, finding the same happiness in the arms of a worthy mate like he himself had found his happiness in the arms of one remarkable Roman legatus.

 

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Marcus sighed, pulling Erik closer to his chest. They lay on their sides, their arms wrapped around each other and Marcus inhaled deeply to take in Erik's wonderful, beloved scent. He tried to ignore the noises coming from the bed at the opposite wall, proving to him that Jonas was still struggling.

It was a pity that they had to share the room with his centurion and Patricius' unwilling prey, but Erik's hidden yawns and his limp body told Marcus that sleep was what his beautiful young prince needed the most right now, and when he was honest with himself, then he had to admit that he was pretty tired himself. Being able to sleep in a warm and cozy bed was more than he had expected for their first night, and feeling Erik so close, safe and content in his arms like a purring tomcat, made up for sharing the room with a couple that wasn't quite a couple yet. But, Patricius and Jonas surely would become a true couple before their journey was over and their mission accomplished. Marcus was positive that it was only a matter of time until Jonas would give in to the handsome young Roman who was determined to conquer the defiant Mattiacer he had to watch and protect. He could see the longing and the desire behind the mask of defiance, and Patricius wouldn't give up until Jonas would be his, courting him until the younger man had no other choice than to fall for him.

“Mhm, that's nice,” Erik purred at his throat, pulling him out of his musings. Marcus carded with his fingers through the soft strands, enjoying the slight tickling Erik's hair caused on his palm. He placed a tender kiss on the softly rounded, rosy cheek, and his love for his young prince overwhelmed him. “Yes, it is,” he whispered back, his lips traveling down on his stubbly cheek until he reached his jawline. Erik raised his head to offer his lips for a kiss, and Marcus immediately took advantage of it, claiming his lover's lips in a silent but bruising kiss.

Erik melted against him, his hands roaming over Marcus' back as he responded to the kiss, letting the older one's tongue explore and claim the sweet cavern of his mouth, moaning softly into the kiss when the Roman's left hand found its way to his tortured backside to knead it gently. For a while, they were content with kissing each other, blocking out the annoyed sounds of hissing and the rustling of the blankets coming from the other side of the room. The hardness poking against his abdomen proved to Marcus that his sweet, young lover wasn't as tired as he had thought Erik would be, and the legatus couldn't resist to let his hand slip into Erik's briefs to cup his balls and then, take his needy cock into his hand.

Erik stiffened and tried to pull away, but Marcus soothed him with another kiss and pulled him close again. “Hush, babe, it's fine. Just let me do this for you,” he murmured against Erik's swollen lips and the brunet gave in, his need to be touched too strong to ignore it. Marcus kissed him the entire time while his fingers moved up and down on the with pre-come slick shaft, swallowing eagerly every sound the Mattiacer uttered in his lust, his right hand still stroking his hair to keep his head in place. The Roman military commander dwelt in his lover's silent moans and gasps, silenced by his hungry lips, enjoying his shivers of arousal and need, his calloused fingers massaging him mercilessly, his only goal to pleasure the brave young man who had endured the long exhausting ride without any complaint.

It didn't take long until Erik stiffened again, his whole body going rigid, but this time not because he wanted to pull away, but because he was close to the point of no return. “Ah, yes, my sweet Erik, come for me!” Marcus whispered almost inaudible, and this was the last straw for the brunet, gasping into the blond's mouth as he spilled his seed into the tender fingers stroking him with greatest skills that wonderfully. Marcus held him close while Erik shuddered through his height, enjoying his pleasure as if it was his own.

When the young man finally relaxed, Marcus pulled his hand out of Erik's briefs, wiping his fingers on the bed sheets. He knew that Flavius' attentive eyes would notice the stain, but Marcus was sure that the Roman innkeeper wouldn't say anything, just remove and clean the sheets, discretly. Erik's sated body was a heavy weight in his arms, and his eyelids dropped even though he tried to keep them open.

When he fumbled for Marcus' body, the Roman took his fingers, pressing a gentle kiss upon them. “Shsh, it's okay, babe. That was only for you. Just go to sleep.”

“But you...” Erik's voice was slurred with exhaustion. “I have found my pleasure in yours. Now, sleep,” Marcus assured him, kissing him on his temple and turning onto his back to pillow Erik's head on his chest and let him sleep more comfortable this way. The young Mattiacer sighed and relaxed, and after a few seconds, his even breaths told Marcus that he was fast asleep.

The Roman legatus smiled and closed his eyes, letting Erik's breathing lull him into sleep.


	30. In The Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eight men sharing four beds in two rooms. This combination will surely lead to some interesting things in the night...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have not much time to write and therefore, have to split the night in two chapters. Here is part one, I hope you will like it. The beginning is a little bit sad, but I felt the need to deal with Rufus' feelings after the last night he shared with Erik and Marcus, knowing that he would only be Marcus' friend in the future. I think that it's understandable that he is sad and needs some comfort, it wouldn't be believable if he could just shrug it off and go on as if nothing had happend.  
> And Julius and Malte... what can I say? Two young men fighting passionately all the time and secretly desiring each other right from first sight on having to share a bed? This simply must lead to some tension release... I decided for the pleasurable kind of release.  
> Enjoy the new chapter and please, keep up your amazing feedback, each kudos and every wonderful comment for this story makes happier than I can tell you. <3

The four men, two Romans, one Celt and one Teuton, were quiet when they got ready for the night.

Severus exchanged a quick glance with Julius, and the young optio smiled reassuringly at him, telling him with his eyes that he had everything under control. Malte indeed showed only little defiance without his friend Jonas pushing him, the expression of the tall Teuton was more thoughtful than annoyed as he eyed the bed first and then, his Roman guard, who was as tall as he himself was, something the youngest one of their quartet certainly wasn't used to.

Julius made an inviting gesture. “Don't worry, Malte, we might be tall, but we are slim enough to share this bed without any problems. Just take the side to the wall, please.” Malte narrowed his eyes, but he was apparently too tired to argue, because after one moment of hesitation, he nodded and climbed onto the bed, gliding to the side until he had reached the edge and turning onto his left side to face the wall.

Julius watched him with pursed lips, shaking his head and rolling his eyes before he slipped under the covers, turning onto his left side, too. Maltes' flinch and his startled yelp proved to Severus and Rufus that Julius' arm had found its way around his midsection to trap him, effectively, making sure that the Mattiacer would stay where he was during the night, and the young centurion was glad when he saw the small smile curling at Rufus' mouth – the first smile since the Celt had listened to Marcus arranging the sleeping order.

“Which side do you want, Rufus?” the Roman with the dark-blond hair asked his companion, gently, focusing his attention on the older man who needed comfort and understanding much more than the young Mattiacer lying pouting in the other bed right now. Rufus' eyes traveled over the bed, their expression wistfully and melancholically. “I'll take the side to the wall,” he finally said, “you are the soldier and need to be able to get up faster than me.”

Severus couldn't help but lay his hand upon his arm. “You are a warrior yourself, Rufus, and a good one. I would be grateful to have you watch my back if someone attacked us,” he objected, pulling another smile from the red-haired man. “Thank you, Severus, you're too kind,” Rufus murmured, climbing onto the bed and slipping to the side to make room for the centurion.

Severus swallowed the answer that wanted to flee his throat so badly, knowing that the other one didn't need a passionate love-declaration right now, but a friend. The blond didn't know how long he loved the former Celtic prince who served his commander with all his heart, but surely for at least one year. He had never thought that he would have a chance to win Rufus' heart, resigning himself to his fate that the love of his life belonged to someone else and telling himself that it was for the better because Marcus needed Rufus more than he needed him, but now, he felt new hope again.

Marcus Retus loved Erik and maybe, there would be the chance that one day, when the Celt had gotten over his grief, Rufus would love him back. He only had to be patient and give him the time he needed to get over his heartache, being his friend and his strong shoulder, and perhaps, this mission would provide him with enough time and opportunities to be that and also court him, discreetly.

Severus laid down next to him and Rufus turned onto his left side, facing him instead of the wall, unconsciously seeking warmth and comfort. Severus pulled the covers over them and settled onto his right side to look Rufus in his beautiful eyes. “I'm not kind, Rufus. I only spoke the truth,” he said, silently enough to not disturb Julius and Malte still rustling with the covers.

Rufus blinked and Severus' heart ached with him as he watched him struggle for his self-control. “Come here,” he whispered, swallowing down the huge lump in his throat and gently pulling him close. “You are a remarkable man and a great warrior. Don't fear that I could ever think any less of you, just because you need a shoulder to cry on like everyone of us needs a strong shoulder now and then.”

Rufus stiffened, trying to keep his composure for a couple of seconds, but then, he accepted the centurion's offer and buried his face in his shoulder, his back trembling with his quiet sobs. “It's not that I am jealous or envying Erik and Marcus their happiness,” he mumbled, and Severus thought his own heart would break with the sympathy and love he felt for the older man as he wrapped both arms around him, stroking his hair and his back as if he wanted to soothe a scared tomcat. “I know, Rufus. You don't have to explain yourself, believe me, I know that,” he whispered into the soft, dark-red strands. Rufus relaxed, gratefully, not fighting against his tears any longer, and Severus kept stroking him until the beloved man finally fell asleep, comforted and consoled by his warm and tender embrace.

 

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“Will you please lie still and stop wriggling your ass against my groin?” Julius hissed as quietly as he was able to, hoping that Severus and Rufus wouldn't hear too much of Malte and him struggling to find a comfortable position in their bed. The young optio was aware of Rufus' confused and hurt feelings, and he hoped that Marcus' dear friend would find comfort and some hours of peaceful sleep in Severus' arms. Severus was his friend and the centurion had once told him about his longing for their commander's personal slave, maybe, this trip would be their chance to find the happiness they both deserved in each other's arms.

“You could let go of me instead of trapping me like a big, long snake,” Malte hissed back, wriggling his more than tempting backside against Julius' groin again. Julius suppressed a frustrated groan, because Malte's writhing would have aroused a man lying in a deep coma, and Julius was wide awake and a healthy young man with normal reactions to the closeness of another warm body rubbing itself against his poor cock the entire time. He could feel sweat covering his forehead as he tried to move away with his hips before the brunet Teuton would feel his inappropriate reaction. “Lie still!” he pressed out through gritted teeth and this time, he wasn't fast enough as Malte tried to free himself one more time, the Mattiacer's butt cheek pushing against his cheeky and disobeying cock that pressed eagerly back, obviously hoping that the wriggling was meant as some kind of foreplay to more pleasures awaiting it.

Malte went perfectly still, lying on the mattress like a statue, only his flat and fast breathing proving that he was very much alive and not a statue, at all. Julius lay behind him, frozen in place, as well, hardly daring to breathe while he waited for the Mattiacer's reaction. “Your commander promised us that we would be safe with you,” the brunet eventually whispered, almost inaudible. Julius bit his lip, taking a few deeper breaths in the hope that it would help him to get his libido back under control. His cock was unimpressed by his attempts to calm down, though, simply ignoring his brain's orders to soften again. Instead, it throbbed impatiently, reminding him of the fact that there was a beautiful male being within reach, someone Julius had fallen for right at first sight when he was honest with himself. It must be his secret crush for the annoying Teuton that made him react that forcefully, because Julius had shared a bed with other legionaries oftentimes without ever having found himself in such a situation like this, unable to control the reactions of his body.

“You are safe with me. You don't have to fear that I would try to touch you against your will,” he mumbled, deeply embarrassed.

Malte snorted, but to Julius' utter relief, it sounded more amused than annoyed. “You _are_ touching me against my will. Your arm embraces me far too tightly for my liking!”

This made Julius angry. “I was given the order to watch you and guard you! How am I supposed to do that when I'm asleep without keeping you close enough to wake up in case that you're trying to do something stupid like you did the entire day?” The young optio was truly frustrated now. He was tired, and Malte had snapped at him almost the entire day without him deserving it only the slightest. He didn't want to risk anything, disappointing his admired commander and putting himself and his superior to shame on their important mission, therefore, his arm had to stay where it was to make sure that Malte stayed where he was during his sleep, as well.

The Teuton's silent chuckle caught him off guard. “You misunderstood me, Roman. I cannot turn around being held like that.”

Julius blinked, not sure whether or not his ears had played tricks on him. “Why would you want to turn around?” he hissed almost inaudible.

“Let me turn around and you will see.”

Julius knew that it was a bad idea. A very bad idea. But, his arm loosened its tight embrace to its own will, and the next second, Malte had turned around and was now facing him, wrapping his own arms around him and pulling the startled Roman close. He opened his mouth to protest, but the only sound coming out was “hhrrmmpfff!” because of the eager tongue pushing into it, while a pair of hot lips made sure that this would be the only sound he could utter for a rather long time.

The dark-haired optio wasn't quite sure when their roles had changed, but Malte had clearly taken the lead, exploring each spot in the soft cavern of his mouth until Julius' mind was spinning, the brunet's calloused hands snaking under his tunic and claiming his trembling body like his tongue claimed his mouth. They didn't do this for the first time, that much he could tell, and Malte's passion and eagerness surprised him more than only a little bit, because he had considered the tall Mattiacer level-headed and sedate, sensing that his defiance had been more for Jonas' sake than for his own.

When one cheeky hand found its way down on his body, touching his aching cock for the first time, Julius decided that he would wonder about the change in the Teuton's behavior later and rather focus on the pleasant actions, the need burning in his groin demanding release. “You could start to return the favor,” Malte whispered at his swollen lips, “because if you don't, I could be tempted to leave the bed and search for someone else being more interested.”

This was a clear challenge and Julius growled and crashed their lips together again, forgetting that there were two sleepers on the other side of the room, completely. Soon, their clothes were pulled up and down to be out of the way while their hands were embroiled in a competition of which one was more skilled in jerking another man's cock off, their hungry lips and tongues battling for dominance like their hands.

Julius could feel the hot pressure announcing his orgasm building at the end of his spine far too quickly for his liking and Malte's pleased snicker proved to him that the tall brunet sensed that he was close to his climax, as well. The fingers of Malte's other hand kept his head in place, digging almost painfully in his scalp, but Julius didn't complain, he liked the younger one's roughness. His strangled moan fleeing from his throat tickled at their lips as he exploded in Malte's hand, his cock shooting hot stripes of creamy-white all over the clever fingers. Julius clung to his broad shoulder, his body shivering in time to the jets of pleasure the Mattiacer milked from him. Malte's kiss became tender and he held him close, stroking him ardently through his height until the young optio had nothing more to give and finally relaxed. Julius shivered one last time and his fingers clenched around the throbbing cock he stroked, rock-hard and ready to shoot its own load, his only wish to pleasure the brunet as much as he had pleasured him.

Malte let out a silent gasp as he reached his own height of ecstasy, his seed erupting from his pulsing member in hot waves, and Julius felt like melting with pure bliss when the evidence of the Teuton's satisfaction coated his fingers. He knew that he was lost, so lost, the defiant young man taking hold of his heart without any chance that he would ever give it back to him.

Not that Julius wanted it back. Quite the opposite. He wanted Malte to keep his heart and take care of it, if only the other man would give him his own heart in return to let the dark-haired optio take good care of it, too. He knew that it was too soon to ask for it, but his kiss must tell Malte what he couldn't tell him with words, filled with all the desire and longing he felt. When the brunet relaxed, Julius slowly drew back from his bruised lips, resting his head on Malte's shoulder for one moment.

Malte sighed and took his hand, wiping their fingers on the sheets before pressing a quick kiss onto Julius' palm. The young Roman felt exhausted and sleepy, and he gratefully let Malte bring their clothing back in order. The Mattiacer chuckled, kissing his flushed cheek and whispering an amused “sleep well, Roman,” into his ear, before turning on his left side to face the wall again.

Julius felt disappointed and rejected for one moment, but when Malte pulled his arm firmly around his midsection, snuggling back against his big spoon, his disappointment faded, making room for warmth and happiness pooling in his belly instead.

The dark-haired optio fell asleep with a small, sated smile on his face, the silent snoring coming from four male throats the only sound in the otherwise quiet and peaceful night.


	31. Pleasant Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Six of the eight men have found their peace of mind and sleep peacefully now. What about the last two men, Jonas and Patricius? Will they be able to find some peace of mind, as well?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Fohlenelf, I wrote this chapter especially for you, my fellow Patronas-shipper, I hope you will enjoy what my mind came up with, please, let me know. :-)
> 
> My dear readers, I had so much fun with the last couple of chapters and your wonderful feedback made me want to write more and more about my Romans and Teutons. Thank you so much for your outstanding support and encouragment. Have fun with this chapter and please, keep your feedback up, it means so much to me!! <33

Patricius turned onto his right side, taking in the sight of the stiff body lying curled up into a very tight ball as close to the edge of the bed as possible. The young Teuton breathed flatly, and the centurion knew that his hands were curled into tight fists even though he couldn't see Jonas' hands. Each time a silent noise was coming from the other side of the room, proving to Patricius and his defiant charge that the other two men were still awake and probably enjoying their closeness, Jonas flinched, his curled up figure shivering slightly.

The Roman officer carefully reached out, laying his hand upon the younger one's forearm in a light, not threatening gesture. The muscles beneath his fingers were hard from the distress Jonas felt, cramping even more under Patricius' touch. “Hush, Jonas, try to relax, no one is going to harm you, I promise you,” he whispered, resisting the urge to stroke the young man, because this would only make him tensing up more instead of relaxing in his current state.

“Yeah, no one except for you!” Jonas hissed back, and Patricius suppressed a resigned sigh. “I am the one you have to fear the least, my defiant Teuton. I never understood those ugly creatures who find it pleasurable to take someone against their will. Moans of lust and pleasure turn me on, not groans of pain and cries of fear.”

“Don't think that I will ever moan with lust and pleasure for you,” Jonas snapped, and Patricius allowed the silent, amused chuckle to flee his throat. “Of course, not, my defiant Teuton. I would never be that arrogant to believe that,” he drawled, pulling an annoyed hiss from the brunet with his words.

“I hate you, damn Roman!” Jonas hissed, but his voice sounded too desperate to be really convincing, and Patricius felt a hot wave of protectiveness and tenderness surge through him. He didn't mind the younger one's words or his behavior, the least. It was his job and his duty to make sure that Jonas wouldn't endanger their mission with his behavior, and that he ate and slept properly, obeying the legatus' orders without further arguments and fights. But, he did understand the Mattiacer's confusion and hurt feelings about Erik's for Jonas totally sudden and unexpected change of mind about the former hated Romans. The young man only tried to protect himself and his heart, and the older man respected that and didn't feel offended by his words.

“I know how hard and confusing all of this is for you, Jonas, believe me,” he murmured and this time, his fingers stroked gently over the tensed muscles of the brunet's shoulder in a calming gesture. To his surprise, Jonas didn't pull away, he only sighed, miserably.

“Why couldn't Marcus let me share the bed with Malte and the room with Julius and you?” he mumbled, weakly, and Patricius sighed. “You know the reason for his decision, don't you, Jonas?”

Jonas' shoulders slumped and the centurion could see him nod his head. “Yes, I know. It's because of Rufus, not because of me, isn't it?” he asked and Patricius stroked his arm again. “Yes, it is. Marcus doesn't love him like he loves Erik, but he cares deeply about him, and he doesn't want his dear friend and companion through thick and thin to suffer more than necessary. Would you really choose a good man who never did anything bad to you having to suffer, deeply, over sharing a large bed with me for just one night?”

“No.” This time, it was a shake of his head, together with a heartfelt sigh.

Patricius removed his hand from Jonas' arm when he felt the tension finally leave the young Teuton's body a little bit. “I won't touch you, Jonas, I promise you. At least not intentionally as long as I am awake. I can't promise you to not touch you while I'm sleeping, but you don't have to fear that I would ever try to force myself upon you, you have my word on that, Jonas. Please, try to relax, you will hurt all over tomorrow if you don't.”

Jonas slowly uncurled, stretching his from riding the entire day tortured limps. “I believe you, Patricius,” he said, eventually calling him by his name instead of 'Roman', something that made the centurion's lips curl into a smile.

“Sleep well, Jonas, and have pleasant dreams,” he whispered, cautiously moving a little bit closer and searching for a comfortable position. Jonas let out an incoherent sound that could perhaps be taken as a 'good night', if one had a lot of fantasy, that is, and Patricius' smile deepened as he closed his eyes, allowing the slumber of exhaustion to claim him in the knowledge that his defiant Teuton would be able to sleep, as well.

 

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Jonas had a wonderful dream.

He slept in a cozy bed, the mattress not smelling of old straw and mold like he was used to it, but of leather, herbal soap and warm, sun-kissed skin. There was also a hint of fresh sweat, not unpleasant though, and Jonas wondered briefly about this unexpected fragrance emanating from the mattress he lay upon, but he was too tired to give it a second thought, feeling only gratitude about the welcomed change. His pillow was a little bit harder than he would have liked it to be, but, it was very comfortable, nonetheless, and it smelled as deliciously as the mattress.

The young Mattiacer who oftentimes froze during the long and cold nights when he lay alone and shivering under the thin covers on his old mattress in the dark house of his family sighed happily, pushing his nose deeper into his pillow, inhaling deeply the tempting scent of it.

The pillow gave in under his movement, and Jonas let out a small, annoyed sound, rubbing his cheek against the soft garment until he had re-positioned his head the way he wanted it, pulling his blanket firmly around his strained and hurting body. The blanket was strangely heavy, but Jonas liked the way it was wrapped tightly around his shoulders and his back, warming him like no other blanket had ever warmed him and offering comfort and a feeling of safety like no blanket had ever offered before, no matter how thick it had been.

The covers smelled as wonderfully as the mattress he was snuggled against and the pillow his head was bedded on, and Jonas sighed again, hoping that he would be allowed to sleep longer than usual in this perfect bed.

The warmth and the delicious smell had yet an unexpected side-effect, because one part of his body woke up and reacted to them while his eyes stayed closed and his body felt heavy with exhaustion and laziness.

Jonas tried to ignore the ache in his groin for some time and slip back into the deeper layers of sleep, but the need grew stronger with every breath he took, and Jonas finally gave in to it, starting to move his hips and rub his hard cock on the mattress it was pressed against. The young man was too tired and sleepy to use his hand and jerk himself off, but he didn't need to do that, the tiny jerks of his pelvis causing enough friction to increase his lust with every move, so he would finally find the release his already with pre-come leaking dick needed so badly.

Jonas moaned softly, enjoying the sensation of soft garment over the thick and smooth mattress rubbing over his cock, still covered with his rather thin briefs, and it didn't take long until his movements became more urgent and his cock began to throb, heavily.

By all Teuton Gods, this was truly heaven on Earth.

Jonas' didn't know why he felt so tired that he couldn't even open his eyes, and the thought of pulling his hand free from the thick cover wrapped around him that nicely wasn't appealing enough to even try it, due to his exhaustion and sore muscles. But, the mattress was so smooth that the friction didn't cause him any discomfort and yet hard enough to let hot waves of pleasure shoot along his spine with every move. Jonas moaned again, the heat of his approaching orgasm making him shiver, and he sucked the garment of his pillow between his lips to silence the sounds of pleasure he couldn't hold back.

Jonas didn't know why he had to stay silent as best as he could, but he knew that he'd better not make too much noise, and sucking at his warm and fragrant pillow was a good way to cover the sounds he uttered almost against his will.  
The pillow moved a little bit, and Jonas sucked harder at the soft material wrapped around it, using his teeth to not let it slip away as his hips increased the speed and the pressure, his need to come overwhelming him.  
He was so close and it felt so good – nothing had ever felt so good in his life, even not his rather clumsy tries with one of the young warriors of his tribe. His bed seemed to be like a companion stroking him, warm and tender, and Jonas never wanted to leave it again.

The fragrance, the hardness combined with softness so perfectly, the warmth and the safety he felt, everything about this bed was just perfect and wonderful.

Jonas moaned again, louder this time, and then, the sensations became too much, and his cock twitched helplessly with the first waves of his intensive release. His briefs soaked wet as his seed erupted from his manhood, but Jonas didn't care about the mess he made, all he cared about was the delicious satisfaction rolling through every cell of his tired and hurting body, easing the ache in his strained muscles and erasing every heavy thought and worry until all Jonas felt was happiness and confidence that everything would be alright again.

The young Teuton relaxed gratefully when the almost painfully ecstasy subsided, and the soft sensation of the pleasant aftermath soothed him enough to become drowsy again. Jonas slipped back into the deep and dreamless layers of sleep, easily now, his uncommon bed warming and protecting him like no bed had ever done before and Jonas slept with a small smile curling at his lips for the rest of the quiet and peaceful night.

 

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Patricius wasn't sure what it was that had woken him up from his rather fitful slumber all of a sudden, but when he felt the warm body of his unwilling bed-mate cuddled up against his side, an unmistakable hardness poking against his thigh, he knew immediately that falling asleep again wouldn't be possible for a rather long time.

The young centurion lay on his back now, and Jonas had turned around to him in his sleep and used him as a mattress, a pillow for his head and a cover at once, keeping Patricius' arms wrapped firmly around him. One leg was spread out over Patricius' own legs, pinning him onto the mattress this way, and there was no single inch of space left between their entangled bodies. It was obvious that the Mattiacer was still asleep, because there was no way that he would have cuddled freely with one of the hated Romans while being awake, especially not with him, Patricius was sure about that.

The dark-blond Roman suppressed a groan that was partly a groan of pleasure and partly a groan of pain, because feeling Jonas so close was almost torture. Sweet torture, but torture, nevertheless.

He felt tired and wrung out, but his damn cock reacted to their tempting closeness and the sensation of Jonas' hard dick pressing eagerly against the Roman's strong-muscled and naked thigh, his tunic having slipped up during his sleep. The thin layer of the Teuton's briefs did nothing to decrease the feeling of a perfect and oh so hard manhood teasing his sensitive skin, and Jonas nuzzling his neck with his nose and pulling his arms tighter around his shoulders didn't help him to calm down, either.

His defiant charge made small, happy sounds of pleasure in his apparently more than pleasant dream, and Patricius smiled when he thought of what Jonas had said about never moaning for him this way.

The young centurion didn't dare moving to not wake Jonas up, knowing quite well what would happen then. Maybe, the dream would fade, and the exhausted young man would slip back into the deep, dreamless state of sleep again without acting on his ragging hard-on.

He should have known better than to hope that though, because of course, Jonas did start to seek release from his desire, beginning to move his hips in a very obvious and unambiguous way as he sought more friction to get off, rubbing his hard erection rhythmically against the Roman's thigh.

Sweat broke out on Patricius' forehead, and the Roman unconsciously clenched his hands, digging his nails into his palms, because his own dick grew harder with every move of Jonas' hips.

He wouldn't jerk off with Jonas sleeping in his arms like this, he simply couldn't do this, because he would never be able to look the young man in the eyes again if he did. He would lie still and let Jonas do what he obviously needed to do to find not only physical release from the unbearable tension he had felt the entire previous day, but also some peace of mind, and Patricius would stay silent and keep Jonas' secret, never mention what had happened during the night when they had had to share one bed.

Patricius suppressed another moan, searching for something that would distract him from Jonas and the erection that left a small damp trace on his skin as the pre-come leaked through Jonas' briefs, but just when he had managed to busy his mind with some training exercises he normally performed every morning, Jonas started another attack on his already alarmed senses, sucking at his vulnerable throat and increasing the speed and pressure of his movements.

The centurion bit down on his bottom lip that hard that he could taste blood upon it and his cock was throbbing and leaking pre-come now, as well.

Damn it. Patricius had always considered himself level-headed and reasonable, and he had never lost control over his body and his reactions before.

Even when he had been an adolescent, he had never had any problems with holding himself back as he had right now as a young, defiant Teuton rubbed his groin against his thigh in that clear but yet rather innocent way. The Mattiacer's soft moans of pleasure tickled his neck and increased Patricius' arousal until he trembled with the effort to not free his hand and jerk himself off in time to the movements of the brunet's hips.

The centurion lay there, trapped and helpless, his cock throbbing and aching, and there was nothing he could do without risking to wake Jonas up. The young man sucked harder at his throat, and the realization of what this meant hit Patricius hard.

How should he explain the hickey on his throat visible for everyone the next morning? It was not that the young Roman was worried about his commander's reaction, or the reactions of his friends, but how was he supposed to explain it to Malte – to Jonas?

A soft, desperate moan escaped his lips, but Patricius knew that he wouldn't wake Jonas up. He simply couldn't do that to him, not when his sweet, defiant charge was so close to finding release. Jonas' hips stuttered and his cock pulsed and grew harder than it already was – if that was even possible, and his raged breathing against Patricius' damp, abused skin where the brunet was still sucking at his neck sent shivers along the Roman's spine.

By Jupiter, he needed so badly to come himself, more than he had needed to come in a very long time. Patricius squeezed his eyes shut, biting his lip again as he readied himself for the sensation of Jonas spilling his seed all over his leg the very next second.

When he did, the Teuton's hot release soaking through his briefs and rolling down on his trembling thigh, Patricius lost his own battle, the sensation of Jonas shuddering through his ecstasy in his arms too much to bear.

The Roman came untouched, his cock exploding in his own briefs, hot waves of pleasure spreading out from his groin into his entire body as he gave in to his lust, savoring his orgasm to the fullest the Roman and the Mattiacer united in their shared ecstasy. Jonas sighed happily, melting against him as he relaxed after his forceful climax, slipping back into the deeper, dreamless layers of sleep, not caring about the wetness in his underwear.

Patricius allowed himself to relax, as well, controlling his breaths and searching for a more comfortable position so he could finally fall asleep again, too. The centurion was used to lying on the hard ground, being covered with dirt or mud, and the wetness in his briefs didn't bother him, much, the only thing he was worried about the problem how he should explain this to Jonas the next morning.

But, he would think about this later, because right now, all he wanted to do was to enjoy their closeness and a good night's sleep, and Patricius allowed the slumber of exhaustion to claim him again, the small, happy smile of satisfaction staying on his face for the rest of the peaceful and quiet night.


	32. False Conclusions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonas had a pleasant dream, Patricius muses about the problem how to explain the hickey and Malte and Julius are not sure how to deal with each other after last night. Marcus, Erik, Severus and Rufus don't have such problems, but they might get affected by what will happen during breakfast...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My dear readers, I didn't want to keep you in suspense for too long, but be warned that there will be some kind of cliffhanger at the end of the chapter. This chapter might not be what you expected, at least I hope so. 
> 
> Enjoy reading it and please, keep up your support and wonderful feedback, because your kudos and comments are what keep me writing even when I'm totally wrung out after a long working day. I'm really curious to know your opinion about this chapter. :-)

Patricius had woken up very early when it still had been dark outside, and after some time he had realized that he wouldn't be able to sleep any longer and carefully and silently stood up. To his luck, Jonas had turned away from him and onto his side again, and Patricius hadn't needed to unwrap himself from the brunet, slowly gliding out of the bed without making any noise or causing too much movements of the mattress. He pulled the blanket over Jonas' shoulders, and after staring down at the dark figure for one more minute, wistfully, he put on his boots and left the room to relieve himself and have a look at their horses. He could feel Marcus' eyes upon his back, but his superior said nothing, and Patricius was grateful for that. He needed some time alone to think about what he should say to Jonas when his charge asked him about the hickey and why he had broken his promise and touched Jonas in an intimate way.

Which he hadn't of course, at least not freely. Jonas had wrapped himself around him using him as a pillow, a blanket and for the tension-release he had needed so badly, and Patricius hadn't had any chance to avoid that. But, he was pretty sure that his sweet, defiant Teuton wouldn't believe him and throw false accusations at him, thinking that he had taken advantage of his helpless state.

The young centurion sighed, carding with his fingers through his tousled hair as he stepped outside the inn, desperately searching for a good explanation for the happenings of the night. The spot where Jonas had sucked at his throat felt still tender, and the Roman knew that he wore a big hickey without having to see his neck. The wet proof of his satisfaction had dried during the few hours he had actually slept, and so would have the wet spot in Jonas' briefs dried during the night, but the Mattiacer would definitely notice the stain and take it for what it was. There was no way that the young man would not see it and know what it was.

Patricius made his way to the water toilet behind the inn, lost in his thoughts, silently praying to Venus for a miracle to happen. He was in love with Jonas, helplessly and crazy in love, and he didn't want the one he loved so much to think that he had taken advantage of him when he had been asleep and abused him for his pleasure, something the blond centurion would never do.

Maybe, Venus, the beautiful Goddess of love and desire, would show pity with him and let the hickey fade during the next hour. Patricius wasn't that dense to truly believe that, but after all, hope was the last thing to die and this faint hope was the only thing he could cling to at the moment, telling himself again and again that everything would be alright, even though he knew that it wouldn't.

 

\-------------------------------------------------

 

Malte woke up from the movement of the mattress when Julius sat up and tried to slip out of the bed as quiet as possible. The younger one turned around, opening one eye to look at his Roman guard.

The dark-haired Roman turned his head when he felt Malte's gaze upon him, smiling cautiously at him. “Good morning, Malte,” he whispered to not disturb Severus and Rufus lying in the other bed still sound asleep. “Did you sleep well?”

Malte grinned, he was in a teasing mood, and he felt surprisingly well after the pleasant encounter last night. His muscles felt sore, but he knew that they would get better when he had moved and walked again for some time. “Good morning, Roman,” he countered, pursing his lips thoughtfully. “I had a weird dream. There was a big snake wrapped around me from behind, almost choking me and when I complained about that, the snake turned into a male siren seducing me.”

Julius blushed furiously, gaping at him with his mouth hanging open, the boot he had just wanted to put on hovering in the air.

Malte chuckled, reaching out with his fist to tenderly lay it under the optio's chin and close his mouth again. “It was a weird dream, but also a very pleasant one, I have to admit. Could it be that you had the same dream, Roman? It was a very good-looking male siren, by the way,” he added with a wink of his left eye and a silly, blissful grin spread out on the Julius' handsome features.

“Good-looking, really?” he mumbled, sheepishly, and the warm feeling suddenly rising in Malte's belly caught the Mattiacer by surprise. It couldn't be that he had developed a special liking for 'his' Roman, could it? The young Teuton had enjoyed their sweet and very satisfying interlude, but the slight ache in his chest felt suspiciously like longing and tenderness, and Malte really wasn't ready to fall in love with a Roman – at least not before he was sure that Julius returned his feelings...

“Yeah, good-looking,” he said, pulling himself together. “Not that you'll draw false conclusions, Roman. I enjoyed our - cuddling - last night, a lot, but that doesn't mean that I will make goo-goo-eyes at you and do whatever you want me to do without objection all of a sudden!”

Julius obviously had won back his self-control again in the meantime, because he only snorted and shot him a mocking, sidelong glance. “I would never think that you would do such a thing, Mattiacer, don't worry. Besides, things would get pretty boring if you did, and I like you just the way you are, so don't hesitate to keep up your defiance – as long as you do what I'll tell you to do, I won't complain, no matter how much you will grouse at me or try to kill me with your looks.”

Now, it was Malte's turn to blush and Julius snickered, silently, finally pulling on his boots and rising to his feet. “Try to get some more sleep, Malte. We'll have to ride all day long again. See you later, I want to make sure that our horses are ready when we'll leave after breakfast.”

Before Malte could utter another word, the annoying Roman was gone, leaving a very confused and annoyed Mattiacer behind. Why did those damn Romans always have to have the final say?

 

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When Jonas woke up, he was alone in his bed – their bed. The brunet was torn between relief and disappointment, the relief outweighing the disappointment when he remembered the pleasant dream he had had, noticing the now dried wet spot in his briefs still visible as a slight stain.

Marcus was already up on his feet for a rather long time, as well, and he had left the room about half an hour ago, but Erik was still there, smiling at him. They hurried to dress, their conversation limited to the absolute necessity, stiff and uncomfortable, Erik's thoughtful glances making Jonas avert his eyes and bite his lip. His friend didn't say anything, though, he only patted his shoulder and said: “Let's go downstairs and have breakfast, Jonas, I'm starving.”

To his astonishment, Jonas felt pretty hungry himself as he followed his friend downstairs, his heart pounding in his chest by the prospect of seeing Patricius again. He could only hope that the tall Roman had slept while he had dreamed his dream without noticing what had happened in their bed right next to him.

The taproom was already humming with buzzing activity and Jonas stopped on the last step as he looked around, his eyes searching for the tall figure of his Roman.

The brunet frowned, startled. When the heck had he started to consider Patricius 'his' Roman? The blond centurion was annoying and bossy, far too mocking and self-confident for his liking, and Jonas hated him with all his heart, didn't he?

It didn't matter that the bed he had dreamed about had smelled like his unwanted guard and watcher smelled, or that he had wished for the split of a second that his dream would have been real and Patricius the one he had cuddled with, Jonas just didn't like him. It simply couldn't be that he fell for a Roman like Erik had done so easily and willingly. He was a Teuton, a proud Mattiacer, and proud Mattiacers didn't give in so easily, just because a handsome Roman came along their way.

Erik tugging at his arm pulled him out of his troubled thoughts, and he followed him to the large table where Malte, Rufus, Severus and the two legionaries were already sitting. Marcus smiled tenderly at Erik when he saw him, he leaned against the wall next to the door, talking quietly to Flavius. Patricius and Julius were nowhere to be seen, and Jonas sat down next to Malte who eyed him from the side with a sharp glance.

“Good morning, Jonas. Are you feeling better?” his friend asked him and Jonas sighed. “My back and my legs still hurt, but I'm better, thank you, Malte.” His dream had a lot to do with him feeling much better, the unbearable tension he had felt yesterday having found a valve, but this was nothing he could tell his companion, at least not while they were sitting here at the table with listeners all around.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked to change the topic and the focus from his well-being to Malte's.

“Yes, thank you.” His friend bit his lip and blushed slightly, his gaze darting to the door for one moment and Jonas frowned. “Is everything alright, Malte? Did Julius try something?” he whispered and Malte's blush deepened, but he shook his head, and his face was serious and almost angry as he hissed through gritted teeth: “No, he didn't and yes, everything is alright. Just leave it alone, will you?”

Jonas flinched, feeling hurt because he couldn't remember one single time his friend had hissed at him like this, but Julius and Patricius opening the door and entering the taproom distracted him, making him forget everything except for his personal guard who looked as stunning as he had looked the previous day, the gust of cool and fresh air he brought with him wafting his unique fragrance in the brunet's direction and reminding him of his dream again.

The Roman's eyes searched for him, and Jonas' heart began to race when Patricius made his way to him with an almost shy smile curling at his lips. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out and all he could do was staring at him as the centurion sat down at his other side. “Good morning, Jonas. I hope you slept well.”

Jonas throat felt dry like sand as he cleared it, his voice sounding far too squeaky for his liking as he said: “Yes, thank you. How long are you up?” He hadn't meant to let it sound as reproachfully as it did, and the smile deepened, Patricius obviously thinking that Jonas had missed him.

Which he hadn't, of course. No the least. Really not. Why should he have missed Patricius lying next to him anyway?

“For a while,” was the Roman's very vague answer and his cheeks showed the faint of a blush, but this could also be because of the cold of the early spring, after all, he had just come from outside.

“I see.” Jonas averted his gaze as Flavius and his son Frowin stepped to the table, serving them with bread, cheese, apples and fresh apple juice. Marcus had sat down beside Erik and cleared his throat to get the attention of his men.

“Good morning to all of you, I hope you all slept well. Please, eat as much as you can, I want to ride as long as possible before the next break, and you will need the nutrients,” he said when everyone sitting at the table was looking at him. His meaningful gaze was directed at Malte and Jonas when he mentioned the needed nutrients, and Jonas suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. He wasn't a little child, was he?

“Flavius will provide us with fresh supplies, and he gave us the address of another inn that will be safe, but tonight, we'll have to camp on a clearing and eating enough will help you to stay warm. I want to leave in about half an hour, so please be finished and ready then.”

The Roman legatus started to eat and his men did the same, Jonas taking a slice of the fresh bread and biting into it. Malte stared at his plate while he ate, more or less ignoring Julius sitting next to him, and Jonas sighed, hoping that his friend would give him an explanation for his odd behavior sooner rather than later.

Erik and Marcus talked quietly to each other while they ate, both looking happily and content, and Severus and Rufus smiled at each other now and then while they enjoyed their delicious breakfast. The red-haired Celt looked a little pale around his nose and Jonas had to think of his talk with Patricius before he had fallen asleep and dreamed his wonderful dream.

The thought of his dream made him shoot a hidden glance at his guard just when Patricius craned his neck and stretched his arm to reach for the carafe with the juice. His bread slipped out of Jonas' trembling fingers and fell down at his plate as he stared at the big hickey adorning the Roman's throat, his stomach clenching in sudden pain.

This couldn't be, this simply had to be a nightmare.

Patricius had slipped out of the bed and left him to have sex with someone else while he had lain alone in their bed. Patricius had promised to take care of him and protect him, but he had left him alone to satisfy his needs without caring about him only the slightest. He had known how uncomfortable Jonas had felt with Marcus and Erik being in the same room, sharing their bed as the lovers they were, and Patricius' solid frame had been his only shield against the view on them and the sounds they had made. Jonas had only been able to relax and fall asleep because the tall Roman had guarded his back, and Jonas had trusted him enough to finally relax and get the rest he had needed so badly.

But, Patricius had betrayed him.

Just when Jonas had been asleep, defenseless and helpless, he had left him and enjoyed himself with someone else – maybe Julius? The young Mattiacer gulped for air, staring at the offending proof of Patricius' breach of confidence. Did Marcus know what his centurion did during the nights when he was supposed to see to his duties? The hotness pooling painfully in his stomach he felt right now couldn't be anything else than rightful anger, there was no way that Jonas was jealous of Patricius' unknown secret lover, wasn't it? Maybe one of the girls or boys living here in this hamlet? Maybe, Patricius had only wanted to join their mission to see her or him again? Maybe it was Iwo, Flavius' brother-in-law? But, whoever he or she was, Jonas felt hurt and betrayed and utterly stupid that he had started to trust and like the tall centurion.

The blond Roman in the meantime had noticed his stare and he slowly and carefully lowered the carafe back onto the table, his eyes fixed on Jonas' snow-white face. There was a sudden dead silence falling over the room, but Jonas didn't notice it, all he saw was the dark-purple hickey on Patricius' otherwise immaculate neck.

“Enjoying yourself, weren't you last night, damn Roman?” the brunet heard himself snarling, his eyes shooting gray-blue fire at his guard. “You were supposed to stay with me and protect me, and what did you do the minute I was asleep? Crawling out of the bed to meet your secret lover and have sex with them! Must have been a hell of a sex judging by the hickey on your throat!”

There was a loud noise as a knife clattered onto a plate, but Jonas didn't turn around to look from where it had come, oblivious to anything other than his rage and hurt feelings. “Does your admired commander know what you're doing when he thinks that you're fulfilling your duties? Maybe, he should look for another centurion taking his business more serious than you apparently do!”

Patricius stared back at him in silence, his face as pale as Jonas' face was now, except for two dark-red spots on his cheeks. Jonas could feel the glances of the other men burning holes into his back, but he didn't care about them. All he cared about was that Patricius had had sex with someone else while he had dreamed of him – craved for him. He should have known better than to believe that a Roman would ever care seriously about one of the loathed and hated Teutons, and Marcus Retus surely only toyed with Erik, as well. He used him for his pleasure and when he grew tired of him, he would send him away or kill him without blinking – just as Patricius had left him alone in their bed.

“But, this is...” Erik's voice cut through the with emotions thick air, making Jonas flinch, but the blond centurion shot a strange glance at Marcus' lover that silenced him again. Patricius cleared his throat after one last impassive look at Jonas and turned to face his commander.

“Jonas is right, Marcus. I neglected my duties for my own pleasure and I will accept each punishment you'll see fit for me. I want to apologize for having been that careless and not thinking of what would have been the best for my charge, and I would understand it if you'll send me back to the camp.”

Jonas could see the legatus' jaw work as he considered his centurion at first and then, Jonas himself, his face expressionless, but his eyes narrowed dangerously. Erik watched the scene with big eyes and a dropped jaw, and the other men sitting at the table looked like statues, frozen in place and unable to react to Jonas' accusations.

“We will talk about this later, Patricius,” Marcus Retus finally spoke up. “You know quite well that I cannot send you back, but you will see to our pack horses today. This will give you enough time to think about what you've done, so you won't do it again.” The commander's words sounded strangely ambiguous, just as if he had meant something else than what he had actually said, and Patricius swallowed, bowing his head. “Of course, commander.” He stood up and left the taproom without any other word, leaving nine men feeling more than only slightly confused and a heavy silence behind.

Marcus pursed his lips, his eyes fixed on Jonas' face giving the Mattiacer the feeling as if he was looking straight into his soul. “You leave me no other choice than to watch you myself today, Jonas. One thing I can tell you for sure, young Teuton: I have only little patience left for your antics and your constant bitching, so you will do what I'll tell you to do without arguing, understood?” Jonas nodded subdued his head, feeling close to tears, and Erik gasped out, apparently not pleased about the prospect of his lover being busied with another one than him the entire day.

His Roman lover took his hand and smiled tenderly at him. “Jonas is confused and need a friend, Erik. You will be his friend and not make it harder for him as it already is, will you?” he asked and the young prince sighed, but nodded after gifting Jonas with one last annoyed gaze. “Yes, Marcus. I will.”

Marcus Retus nodded and stood up. “Very well, let's go then, we have a long way ahead of us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You didn't really think that Jonas would draw the right conclusions, did you? ;-)
> 
> And no, I'm absolutely not sorry for not being sorry for this chapter. Quite the opposite, I had evil fun writing it and torturing my sweet boys for a while longer. Where would be the fun if everything would go smoothly and nicely?  
> Please, bear with me, I'll try to write the next chapter asap, I only have to see to my Wraith and another football story at first. :-)


	33. A Talk Between Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcus leaves the hamlet with his companions again, and Jonas feels miserable because everyone seems to be angry at him instead of Patricius, especially his close friend Erik. Will they be able to sort things out and will Jonas realize what truly happened during the night?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I seem to be unable to leave this story and my boys alone at the moment, I simply had to write another update. This chapter turned out to become totally different from what I had planned, but Erik and Jonas asked for some quality time because of their quarrel. I'm not so sure about this chapter, but I decided to post it, I hope you will like it, please let me know!

Jonas soon found himself seated on his mount again, taken in the middle between the horses of the blond legatus and his friend Erik while their companions followed them in the same order as they had done the previous day, only that Patricius had to take care of the pack horses at the end of their group this time.

The two legionaries watched their back like they had done the other day and it was obvious that they were truly pissed off by their centurion's punishment, their furious glances stabbing invisible daggers into Jonas' shoulders the entire time.

Flavius, Frowin and Iwo waved at them when they left the hamlet, and the young Teuton felt his heart sink because they had to leave their shelter and the friendly people. Flavius hadn't said anything to the happenings during their breakfast, but he had smiled reassuringly at him and patted his hand when he had handed him a bottle with water for the long ride, the only friendly gesture he had received so far since his outburst. Everyone else seemed to be angry with him instead of Patricius, although it was the centurion who had been betrayed so badly and not the other way around.

As strange as it was, but Marcus Retus was the only one talking in a neutral voice to him. He spoke only little, being occupied with watching their surroundings, and every time he addressed Jonas, he did so to just tell him what to do, but he didn't sound mean or angry, being all business and nothing else. Jonas felt miserably, and he didn't understand Erik's behavior towards him, he had hoped that his childhood friend would sense how confused and betrayed he felt because of Patricius' unacceptable behavior, but every time he turned his head to look at him, Erik's jaw was tensed with anger and he refused to return his gaze or gift him with a smile that would have consoled the younger Mattiacer at least a little bit.

Jonas didn't know himself why he felt so hurt that his former Roman guard had left his side and sought the company of a more willing partner instead. When Marcus had ordered him to share the bed with the blond centurion, he had been angry and scared, horrible pictures showing up before his mind's eye. But, when Patricius had lain beside him, he had felt warm for the first time in years, and his tall and strong frame had given him a feeling of safety and protection he had missed since he had grown too old to sit in his mother's lap. Jonas had been grateful that Patricius had been there, shielding him from the couple crazy in love lying in the other bed that made him feel his own loneliness every time he caught a glimpse of them cuddling close together. He had believed Patricius when the Roman had said that he wouldn't let anybody harm him and finally allowed himself to fall asleep because of this promise.

Jonas had thought that he meant something to the handsome older man, and he had hoped that Patricius would be patient and give him the time he needed to come closer to him, but he had obviously been mistaken and the centurion didn't like him the way Jonas had started to like him.

The Mattiacer's heart ached every time he imagined Patricius in the arms of his unknown lover, their greedy mouth sucking at his vulnerable throat, making him moan in pleasure – for someone else and not for Jonas. Jonas angrily blinked against the tears that wanted to well up in his eyes, and he couldn't resist and turned back to take a look at Patricius' straight figure in the saddle. The tall centurion rode in the middle between the pack horses, holding their reins, and for the split of a second, their eyes met. Clear blue eyes met gray-blue stormy ones, and Jonas' breath hitched in his throat, but then, the other man looked away again, and Jonas felt even more miserable than he had felt before. A heartfelt sigh escaped his tight throat and his shoulders slumped as he followed Marcus and Erik along the path, his heart aching as badly as his muscles hurt, but his face showed the usual defiant expression, because after all, he was a brave Teuton, and he wouldn't let anyone see his sorrow and misery, Jonas the Mattiacer was far too proud to do that.

 

\-------------------------------------------------

 

Marcus stopped for a short lunch break around noon, and Jonas was deeply grateful for the break, his legs almost giving in underneath him as he dismounted his horse. The legatus turned to him and considered him thoughtfully for one moment.

“If you need to relieve yourself, take Malte and Erik with you, we don't know this region well enough to risk anything, Jonas. And Rufus will take a look at your legs, I noticed that they were cramping during the last hour. We need to ride for a couple of more hours, and I need you fit enough for that.” Marcus' voice was all business again, but his eyes showed a friendly, understanding expression, and Jonas nodded silently his head, too exhausted to object. “Yes, Marcus.”

The Roman looked at him for one more moment before he waved at Julius to follow him, making his way to the pack horses. The brunet watched him talking to Patricius, whose chin was raised defiantly as he answered to what his superior had said to him, stubbornness settling on his handsome features. His reaction surprised Jonas more than only a little bit, because in the morning, Patricius had admitted his misbehavior so willingly.

“Jonas, are you coming?” Erik called for him, impatiently, and he pressed his lips to a thin line and crossed the small clearing in the direction of the bushes where Malte and Erik were waiting for him. Malte eyed him curiously, but he didn't ask him questions about his well-being, and Jonas was grateful for that. He felt bad enough and he didn't want to lie to his friends and tell them that he was alright when he wasn't. If Erik was still his friend, that is. The older Mattiacer looked pretty upset despite of what he had promised to Marcus, and he ignored Jonas as best as he could.

Malte eventually showed pity with him, wrapping his arm around his shoulder as they walked back to the trees where their horses stood, nibbling at the green grass. Rufus already waited for them, smiling friendly at Jonas. “I will see to your legs first, Jonas,” he said, his voice kind and his eyes soft. “Your calves are troubling you pretty much, aren't they?” Jonas nodded and sat down onto the grass. “I had cramps during the last hour.” For one moment, he wished that Patricius would see to his legs, but this was not going to happen and the young Teuton was glad that the friendly Celt would treat him and not Julius or Marcus themselves. The red-haired man gently pushed the legs of his trousers up, smearing an ointment onto his calves with skilled fingers. It smelled strongly of herbals, but not unpleasant, and it left a nice cool feeling on his skin. Rufus started to massage the ointment into his sore muscles and Jonas groaned, surprised, but then he relaxed and remained quiet, his whole body relaxing as the muscles in his legs slowly unclenched.

Malte watching them, snickered. “This is better than having sex, isn't it?” he asked, and Jonas tensed up again, letting out a yelp because Rufus' nails involuntarily dug into his cramping muscles at the same time as the Celt flinched as much as Jonas did by the tall Mattiacer's blatant words.

Malte blushed furiously when he realized what he had said. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to...” he stammered, and Rufus who had been the quicker one of both of them to recover from his fright smiled reassuringly at him. “It's alright, Malte. You're perfectly right, to get a massage after long days in the saddle is much better than having sex.” He stroked over Jonas' leg one last time, pulling his trousers back over his calves. “It's your turn now, Malte. Let's see whether or not you're still thinking the same way after me massaging your legs!” The Celt threatened, playfully, and Malte who was still deep red, sheepishly bit his lip and pulled his trousers up. Jonas didn't miss the hidden, wistful glance his friend shot in Julius' direction, who had sat down with Patricius, sharing his lunch with him while Marcus and Severus shared their meal with the two legionaries, Quirinius and Septimus.

Jonas knew his friend well enough to read his face, and the young Teuton swallowed hard when he realized that Malte was interested in his Roman guard. He didn't know if anything had happened between them, and it could still be that Julius was Patricius' secret lover, having sneaked out of the room when Malte had slept, but Jonas had lost the last accomplice he had hoped he still had. Malte had jumped ship, and Jonas couldn't count on his friend any longer, even though the older one surely wouldn't want to admit that he liked the dark-haired optio more than he should. Jonas was alone among their group, and no one would come to his help. Erik had fallen in love with a Roman and Malte was about to do the same, and he himself was the only one left.

Jonas swallowed again, unable to eat one more bite all of a sudden. It would become dark in a couple of hours, and this time they would have to camp on a clearing, sleeping on the hard ground and in thin tents. His two friends would have their Romans to hold and warm them, being safe in their arms, but there would be no one doing the same for him.

Jonas would be alone and most of all, lonely, shivering in the cold of the dark night, and the thought of the forthcoming night suddenly was the most frightening thought he had ever had.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------

 

When they settled on a larger clearing for the night, Jonas felt so exhausted that his head was spinning, and he was hardly able to keep himself upright any longer. He knew that he should help the others with the horses and the tents, but his teeth clattered loudly against each other and he had to fight against the bitter bile rising in his throat, desperately trying to keep himself from throwing up. Marcus shot him a concerned look and then, he jerked his head at Rufus who pushed the reins of his mount into Severus' hands and came to him when he noticed the state Jonas was in.

Julius handed him a blanket on his way to the shivering young man, and Rufus took Jonas' arm and guided him to a large tree where he helped him to sit down, wrapping the blanket firmly around him. “Drink carefully,” Marcus' personal slave reminded him as he lifted the water bottle to Jonas' trembling lips. “I can brew some herbals later, but this will take a while.”

Jonas gratefully sipped from the cool water, and when he had quenched his thirst, the Celt pulled him in his lap and wrapped his arms around him to warm him. It was an almost fatherly gesture, and Jonas was too tired to fight against it although it reminded him of the previous evening and made him wish it was Patricius' lap he was sitting in.

“Why is Erik so angry with me?” he whispered, miserably, and Rufus pulled him closer, rocking him and stroking his back. “Erik isn't angry, young Teuton,” the older man said, “he is as confused and unsure as you are. It is not easy for him to be the link between your tribe and the Roman camp, the expectations of both parties pressing down on his shoulders, heavily. Plus, if you're honest with yourself, then you have to admit that you didn't make it easier for him with your defiance, either. He needed your support, and Malte and you objected to each and every little thing since your arrival, accusing him to not be loyal to his father and his tribe anymore. You are one of his closest friends, and he hoped for your understanding, support and your approval, but all you did was questioning his beloved one's honesty and Erik's loyalty towards your tribe. This hurt him, deeply.”

Jonas sighed, leaning back against the older man's shoulder. “You're probably right, Rufus, and I don't think that Erik isn't a loyal Teuton, I know that he is. But, Patricius was the one misbehaving, and Erik acts as if I had been the one doing something wrong.”

Rufus stayed silent for a while. “There must be a reason for Patricius' behavior, and for Erik's anger, as well. Patricius is one of Marcus' best men and he never did something like this before. But, you will only know the reason if you talk to them and ask them about it. Shall I send Erik to you so you can talk to him, Jonas? My master will understand that this is important to both of you, and he won't say anything against it We can arrange the tents without your help. You need to calm down, or you will get sick during the night,” he finally said, and Jonas nodded, gratefully. “Yes, please, I really need Erik to be my friend again.”

Rufus stroked his cheek before he carefully lowered the young man from his lap down onto the grass. “Erik never stopped being your friend, Jonas. You had a quarrel like friends have now and then, that's all. Try to rest a little bit, I'll talk to him.”

 

\--------------------------------------------------------

 

Erik bit his lip when he knelt down before his friend who had fallen asleep. Jonas' face was pale and he looked thin, exhausted and desperate even in his fitful slumber. The older brunet had had a bad conscience for ignoring him and treating Jonas unfriendly the entire day, but he was still upset about his friend's accusations, and he simply couldn't wrap his head around Jonas' obvious lie. His childhood friend had never lied before, taking the blame for his actions instead of making another one suffering for what he had done.

But, Rufus and Marcus were right, he had to talk to the younger one and ask him why he had lied and put Patricius to shame, and Jonas was apparently in a very bad shape and needed him right now.

Erik sat down beside him, pulling him close when he noticed the smaller man's trembling. Jonas stirred slightly when he wrapped his arms around his back, blinking confused as he woke up. “Patricius?” he mumbled, making Erik frown. Why was his friend calling for the man he had blamed that wistfully?

“It's me, Erik,” he whispered, stroking his tousled hair out of his forehead. “Erik?” Jonas mumbled, shaking his head to clear his mind. When he was fully awake, he lay his head upon Erik's shoulder, sniffing silently. “I'm sorry for questioning your loyalty, Erik,” his friend croaked out. “Your Marcus is a good man, I'm sure. Please, don't be angry with me any longer. I need you.”

Erik's bad conscience hit him once more and he brushed Jonas' temple with his lips. “It's okay, Jonas. I understand you, really. I was as defiant as you were at the beginning and I am sorry for the way I treated you today. I guess that you simply reminded me too much of my own behavior and I didn't want to be reminded of it. Can you forgive me?”

His friend snuggled close to him and Erik could feel that his shivering subsided a little bit. “If you forgive me, as well?” Jonas asked, his voice hoarse and strained. Erik kept stroking his back, glad that they were on speaking terms again. He needed his friends and their approval and understanding more than he had thought. He loved Marcus and was happy with him – happier than he had thought he could be – and Rufus was a real friend, but Malte and Jonas were Mattiacers like him and he knew them as long as he could remember. They had gone through thick and thin together and Erik had missed them, deeply.

“Of course, I do, Jonas. But, why did you lie and accused Patricius of having left you to have sex with someone else, when you know quite well that you were the one who left the hickey on his throat?” he asked, not prepared for Jonas' violent flinch. His friend drew back from him, his face snow-white as he stared at Erik in disbelief. “What are you talking about, Erik? I did no such a thing! I slept all night long and I surely didn't have sex with Patricius!”

Erik could see that the brunet was deadly serious about this, his eyes wide with shock, and he had started to shiver again, his breathing ragged and his fingers clenching around the hem of the blanket. The older one blinked with confusion and then, he realized what had happened. He pulled Jonas close again, making soothing sounds. “It's okay, Jonas, hush, don't fret. I believe you that you didn't realize what truly happened. Please, calm down, no one is going to blame you. Just tell me, did you dream last night? A nice dream you can remember perhaps?”

Jonas hesitantly leaned against him, drawing in a shuddering breath. “I really didn't mean to... Yes, I had a nice dream... I slept in a warm and cozy bed and it smelled like Patricius smells, but it really was only a dream... I felt warm and safe and the smell was so pleasant – so different from my own moldy mattress and pillow...”

Erik could feel how embarrassed and ashamed his friend felt, and he cursed inwardly that he had brought up the topic and behaved that stupidly. Patricius obviously had known that his young charge had been asleep, unaware of what he was doing in his slumber, and the centurion had rather taken the blame instead of putting Jonas to shame. Marcus must have realized the reason behind his officer's behavior, instantly, and he had played along, respecting Patricius' unspoken wish to keep Jonas' secret even though he clearly hadn't liked it that he had to punish his centurion for something he hadn't done.

“I'm sorry, Jonas, I'm so sorry. I thought that you had been awake and that you...” his voice trailed off with the shame he felt himself.

“That I had been too gutless to admit what I had done,” Jonas finished the sentence for him with a sigh, but he didn't sound angry or offended, only resigned and regretfully. “I cannot blame you, Erik, after how I behaved the entire time since our arrival in the camp. I most likely would have thought the same. But no, I really didn't know that my dream hadn't been only a dream, if I did, I would never have accused Patricius of having neglected his duties and done what I accused him of. He took the blame to spare me the shame and embarrassment, didn't he?”

Erik nodded his head. “Yes, he did.”

Jonas stayed silent for a rather long time and Erik waited patiently, giving him the time to pull himself together, gently stroking his bed.

“Did Marcus and you... hear and see a lot? Was I that... loud and...”

Erik lifted his chin up to look him in his eyes. “No, Jonas, you were not. Marcus was asleep, don't worry. He only knows Patricius well enough to know that he wouldn't do that. I was awake for some time, but I didn't spy on you. I woke up several times during the night because my back hurt and each time I did, Patricius was in the room. There were a few sounds, but I didn't listen or tried to watch you. I woke up shortly after Patricius had stood up early in the morning to see to our horses, but he stayed with you the entire night and he cares about you, deeply, Jonas.”

Jonas relaxed by Erik's words, chewing on his lip, obviously trying to come to terms with his feelings. “I need to talk to him,” he finally said, his voice sounding determined. Erik considered him, concerned. “Are you sure, Jonas? You don't look as if you were in the state to have such a talk with anyone at the moment.”

Jonas nodded his head, a grim expression on his face. “Yes, Erik, I need to talk to him, and I need to do that now. I won't feel better until I did. I am a Teuton, a Mattiacer, and not a coward. I blamed him for something he didn't do, at all, and I need to fix that and take over responsibility for what I did to him. Will you please help me to get up and go to him, Erik?”

The younger one craned his neck to look where Patricius was, finally seeing him at the other end of the clearing, busied with collecting wood for the fire.

Erik followed his gaze, unsure what to do. Jonas was still trembling and he looked as if he would break down the very next second. Was he really in the state to talk to Patricius?

Jonas' eyes were glowing with despair and in his pale face as he looked pleadingly at his friend. “Erik, please, help me, I need to talk to Patricius before it is too late!”


	34. Let Me Be Your Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonas wants to talk with Patricius. Will the young centurion forgive him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I so wanted to post this chapter tonight, I hope there won't be too many errors and typos, because I'm pretty tired after a long working day. I have to admit that I like this chapter and I hope that you will like it, as well, my dear readers, it is also pretty long. :-) More than 9000 hits, and all of your lovely comments and kudos, your support for this special story makes me so happy! Please, keep up your feedback and tell me what you think about this chapter, I really want to know your opinion. <3

Patricius felt almost grateful for his task, his search for enough dry wood to keep their campfire burning all night distracting him from his dark thoughts. He snorted with grim amusement when he thought of his despair when he had tried to find an explanation for the happenings during the previous night in the morning. The possibility of Jonas thinking something totally wrong had never even crossed his mind, and he had been stunned into silence by the young Teuton's accusation, unable to do anything else than just gape at him.

For the split of a second, he had wanted to tell the annoying young man the truth right in front of the others, to yell and shout at him for blaming him that wrongfully, but his mouth had refused to form the words that would have told the truth, revealing Jonas' secret to everyone in the room, even Flavius and his son, and putting the proud Mattiacer to shame with that. Jonas didn't have anything left to protect himself and deal with all of the sudden and confusing changes than his pride and his defiance, and Patricius loved him too much to take that away from him.

So, he had taken the blame, admitted a failure he wasn't guilty of, and asked his superior to punish him for neglecting his duties for his pleasure. In some way, he _had_ neglected his duties for his own pleasure, letting Jonas' unconscious actions overwhelm him instead of staying reasonable and attentive to their surroundings, so he deserved to be punished. He had let his desire rule him and his own actions, and collecting wood and seeing to the pack horses was not a real punishment and something he didn't mind having to do, at all.

The only thing he did mind and which felt like a true punishment to him was that he couldn't take care of his sweet, defiant Teuton any longer. Jonas had had a horrible day, his best friend Erik treating him unkindly and making it even harder for the younger one as it already was, and Quirinus and Septimus had looked daggers at him the entire day, angry that a honorable Roman had been punished because of a cheeky Teuton. Only his commander and Rufus, the commander's personal slave, had treated Jonas friendly, and Patricius' heart ached for him every time he caught a glimpse of the young man he loved so much and who looked so unhappy, exhausted and confused, hardly able to stay in the saddle during their long ride. He wanted – needed – to take care of him, to hold him in his arms, keeping him warm and safe, and it was driving him mad that he couldn't do it.

When he had watched Rufus pulling Jonas in his lap, his vision had reddened with fury and jealousy, not because he thought that Rufus was romantically or sexually interested in the brunet, but because he wanted to be the one consoling, warming and rocking Jonas so badly that it was a physical pain in his stomach. But, he had to stay away from him for Jonas' own sake and he had turned away and started to collect wood like he was supposed to do.

His superior had come to him during the lunch break, asking him why he had taken the blame and admitted something he hadn't done, but Patricius had refused to explain himself and his actions, even though he knew how much Marcus hated it that he had to punish him for something he hadn't done, at all. Julius standing beside the blond legatus had briefly smiled at him in understanding, not approvingly, because he hated it to see his close friend and direct suprior being punished, as well, but he at least had understood his reasons, while Marcus had tried to convince him that Jonas would get over his embarrassment and shame and that it would be better for the young man to take over responsibility for his deeds. Patricius hadn't agreed to that, the least, he wasn't so sure if Jonas could really deal with such a revelation at the moment, and he would protect Jonas at all cost, even if that meant that he had to protect the brunet from he himself and stay away from his beloved defiant Teuton.

“Patricius?” the voice coming from behind startled him, his worries and self-accusations obviously dulling his senses, and he darted around in utter surprise, because it had been Jonas' voice calling him.

The blond centurion felt a huge lump in his throat because Jonas looked horribly, thinner, paler and more exhausted than ever, and Patricius' heart clenched with sorrow and regret when he noticed that the young man had to lean against his friend to keep himself upright. The Roman officer wanted to embrace him, to hold him in his arms and never let go of him again, but he wasn't allowed to do that, and Patricius unconsciously balled his fists. The brown-haired Mattiacer flinched when he saw Patricius' gesture and the centurion inhaled deeply and unclenched his hands again.

“Jonas. What's up?” he forced himself to ask in a neutral voice, and the smaller one chewed on his lip, indecisively, before looking at Erik. The older Mattiacer hesitantly let go of Jonas. “Are you sure that you really want to do this now, Jonas? You look as if you would break down the very next second.”

Jonas nodded his head, determined. “Yes, I am sure, Erik. Please, leave us alone. Patricius won't hurt me.”

Erik eyed him for one moment and Patricius looked back, calmly and seriously. “Yes, I know, Jonas. I never thought that Patricius would ever harm you, Jonas, not after everything he did for you.” The older brunet smiled at him, apologetically. “I'm sorry, Patricius. I told him. I hadn't realized that Jonas had been asleep and I thought that he blamed you for some gutless reasons.”

Patricius nodded curtly, but didn't say anything, his attention focused on Jonas, and after one more moment, Marcus' young prince turned around and walked to their companions busied at the other side of the clearing, leaving him alone with Jonas who still chewed on his lip, his body trembling in the chilly air of the early spring night.

The blond centurion took another deep breath. “Alright, Jonas, lets talk, then.”

 

\--------------------------------------------------

 

Jonas stood before the taller Roman like a rabbit before the snake, desperately searching for the right words to tell Patricius how sorry he felt for what he had said and done a couple of hours ago. The centurion watched him with a strange expression on his handsome features and Jonas nervously licked over his lip.

He knew that he was right and that the good-looking warrior wouldn't harm him, but he apparently also wasn't going to make it any easier for him, waiting for him to start their talk. Jonas' head was spinning and he felt dizzy and nauseous, but his defiance helped him to stay upright, and his gaze didn't waver as he eventually blurted out: “You have all right to be angry with me, Patricius, I know that. I was an asshole, an idiot, and what I did is unforgivable, but I'm sorry for what I accused you of and what I said, I truly am. Please, I didn't know that I... I truly believed that it had only been a dream...”

His vision was blurred with his dizziness, and he instinctively reached out with his hand for something to hold on to, and then, two strong arms wrapped themselves around him and pulled him into a tight but gentle embrace. Jonas gratefully leaned against the older man, flinging his arms around his back, and Patricius lowered them carefully down to the ground, pulling him in his lap like he had done the previous evening.

“I am so sorry for what I did, that I abused you this way...” Jonas croaked out, burying his face in the centurion's shoulder. Patricius tensed with anger, startling him, but when the older man laid his hand under Jonas' chin to lift his head up, his fingers were gentle and the expression in his clear blue eyes was soft.

“Don't you ever say something like this again, Jonas! You didn't abuse me! You were exhausted and sound asleep, and you obviously didn't know what you were doing, at all. You needed this release and I didn't feel abused in any way, at all,” the older man almost growled and Jonas blushed, two red spots forming on his pale cheeks.

“But, it must have been disgusting for you and I really didn't mean to make you feel this way,” he mumbled sheepishly and Patricius smiled at him. “It wasn't disgusting at all, my defiant Teuton. Quite the opposite. If anyone is guilty of abuse, then I am the one to blame, because I enjoyed what you did more than I should have,” the Roman admitted, and Jonas could see the hint of a blush on his handsome features despite the darkness. He relaxed with relief, leaning heavily against him. “You really did? You didn't find it disgusting, but truly enjoyable?” he made sure and Patricius nodded. “Yes, Jonas. I found it more pleasurable than I have ever found anything else before.”

The young Mattiacer sighed. “Did you find release yourself?” He glanced up at Patricius' face from underneath his eyelashes, knowing that the centurion could see his shame, but, he simply had to know the answer.

Patricius smiled, brushing with his thumb over Jonas' lips. “Yes, I did. I embarrassed myself by being unable to hold back and coming in my briefs untouched like a horny young boy with his first crush,” he confessed in such a serious voice that Jonas couldn't help but chuckle. “So I wasn't the only one waking up with a dried wet spot in my underwear,” he snickered, weakly, and Patricius' smile deepened as much as his blush. “No, you were not, Jonas. Plus, you really don't have to apologize for what you did in your sleep. I mused about waking you up, but, I just couldn't do it. You needed your rest so badly, and you also needed some release, and I feared that you would feel ashamed and tense up even more if I woke you up. I only worried about how I should explain what had happened to you in the morning when you would see the hickey and notice the stain in your underwear. I feared that you would get the wrong impression and think that I had taken advantage of you being asleep and abused you. Please, believe me that I would never ever do that.”

Jonas could finally see the funniness about all of this and he snuggled close to his Roman and smiled up at him. “I know that you wouldn't, Patricius, and I _did_ get the wrong impression. Only in another way than you had feared,” he said and Patricius nodded. “Yes, I would never have expected you thinking that I had had sex with someone else,” he drawled.

“And yet you were willing to take the blame and let yourself be punished for something you hadn't done.” Jonas stated, amazed.

“I had promised to protect you and take care of you. If this meant to take the blame and spare you the shame and embarrassment, then so be it. I couldn't reveal the true happenings to everyone in the room, Jonas. I know how hard all of this is for you. I would never make it harder for you than it already is.”

“But I accused you of something horrible, something you would never do!” Jonas exclaimed and the centurion chuckled, silently. “You sounded pretty jealous and this made up for my discomfort more than enough.”

Jonas scowled at him. “I was jealous!”

“That's nice to hear, my defiant Teuton.” Patricius smirked before becoming serious again. “I wasn't angry with you. Marcus asked me to tell him the truth and I declined his request because I take the promises I make serious, and I promised to protect you. You don't need to apologize. There is nothing you need to ask my forgiveness for, Jonas.”

Jonas chewed on his lip. “So, we're on good terms again?”

“We were never on bad terms. My punishment was to see to the pack horses and stay away from you. Marcus most likely hoped that me not being allowed to take care of you would make me admit what truly happened, but I thought that you would prefer me not coming near you again. I didn't stay away because I was mad at you.”

“I will ask Marcus to let you protect and guard me again, then. I have gotten used to you somehow, Roman, and I'd prefer you doing that instead of him,” Jonas said. He knew that it was much more than only him having gotten used to the blond centurion, but he couldn't admit it out loud, not yet, suddenly feeling shy and unsure again.

The blond Roman grinned. “I have gotten used to you, as well, my defiant Teuton.”

“You like me then, at least a little bit? Even though I treated you that badly and unfair?” Jonas held his breath while he waited for Patricius' answer. He couldn't tell the other man how he felt, but he needed to know about Patricius' feelings for him.

The Roman warrior looked down at him with an unreadable expression on his face. “No, I don't like you, Jonas,” he eventually said, quietly, and the Mattiacer tensed up and tried to pull away, his stomach clenching painfully, but Patricius didn't let him slip from his lap.

He held him close, his calloused fingertips stroking Jonas' cold cheek, and his eyes were dark with his emotions as he said, sincerely and firmly: “I love you.”

“Oh.” Jonas' jaw dropped and he just stared at the blond, eyes big and his heart racing with his own overwhelming emotions. “You love me?” was all he could whisper and Patricius nodded his head. Jonas opened his mouth, but the other one laid his finger upon his lips.

“You don't need to answer to that, Jonas. I didn't tell you that to get your love confession in return, I only wanted you to know how I feel about you. You are exhausted, confused and hurting all over, physically and mentally. You grew up hating Romans and what they did to your tribe and other Teutons; and a lot of my compatriots did their best to confirm your bad opinion about us Romans. And suddenly, everything changes within a couple of days, your childhood friend loves one of those hated Romans, and you are supposed to trust them and to consider them as allies and maybe even friends. No one asked you how you felt about that, and no one seems to be truly interested in your feelings, except for Malte. I understand how you feel, believe me. I had to wrap my head around considering your tribe as allies myself and even though it certainly was easier for me, but I needed some time for that, as well. You don't need a lover at the moment, you need a friend, someone who understands you and respects your feelings and reservations, and all I'm asking for is that you let me be this someone for you and your friend, Jonas. All I want is to be the one comforting you, warming you and taking care of you when you need comfort, warmth and care. I want to be the one holding you during the cold night and the one massaging your shoulders and your legs after a long day in the saddle. Trust doesn't come just like that, it has to be earned, and you have no reason to really trust us Romans so far. Trust is something that doesn't come naturally to Romans and Teutons these days and I know that. But, I do hope that you will give me the chance to prove myself to you and that you will learn to trust me one day.”

Patricius went silent after his long passionate speech, and Jonas had to swallow against the huge lump in his throat as he returned the Roman's intensive glance. “I do trust you, Patricius. You don't have to prove yourself to me any longer, you've already shown me that my reputation and well-being is more important to you than your own well-being and reputation. I know that you won't harm me, I can see it in your eyes. But, how can you love me? I treated you badly, objected to everything and behaved defiantly and childishly the entire time! You could find someone so much better and worthier to be loved,” the young Mattiacer replied, hoarsely, and the Roman's gaze became tender as he stroked his now warm cheek again.

“You are perfect the way you are, Jonas, believe me. You are defiant and difficult and annoying, but also brave, honest and fascinating, and I wouldn't change one single thing about you, especially not your defiance. I would truly miss something if you became well-behaved and dutiful all of a sudden. One thing I know for sure: it will never be boring with you around me, and I like your defiance, so please don't you ever change, my sweet, defiant Teuton,” Patricius assured him with a smile, and Jonas raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you sure, Roman? You might change your mind about that rather quickly.”

“No, I won't.” Patricius considered him, thoughtfully. “I love you the way you are, don't you doubt that, Jonas. But, you are tired and hurting, and you need something to eat and most of all, warmth and sleep. So will you please let me take care of you tonight, hold you, feed you and keep you warm without objections?”

The brunet had almost forgotten how miserably he felt during their talk, but now, as Patricius reminded him of that, the dizziness came back, and he could feel a bad headache pounding beneath his temples. “Yes, I will, Patricius,” he murmured, and the centurion relaxed visibly. “Alright, let's join the others, then.” He helped Jonas to his feet and guided him to the campfire where their companions already sat and for once, the Mattiacer let him take the lead without objection, leaning gratefully against him. He knew himself well enough to know that their fights weren't over, but not tonight. Tonight, he wouldn't fight and gladly follow his Roman guard's orders and enjoy his tender care, because even the proudest and strongest Teuton needed someone to take care of them now and then.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------

 

Erik jumped to his feet when the blond Roman carefully lowered Jonas down on the blanket Rufus had spread out on the cold ground for them.

“Stay with him, Patricius, I will pick up the wood,” he said and after one look at his superior, Julius stood up, as well. “I'll come with you, we will be faster together, Erik,” he stated, following the young Teuton prince to the spot where the wood Patricius had collected still lay in the grass.

Patricius said down beside his young charge, sensing that Jonas didn't want to sit in his lap at the moment. He was tired and trembling all over, but the centurion understood his need to keep his composure at least a little bit, and so he only wrapped another blanket around his shoulders and handed him the mug with the herbals Rufus had brewed for him. Jonas took it with a grateful smile, sipping carefully from the hot beverage.

His commander sitting opposite them tilted his head to the side with pursed lips. “I'm glad that you sorted things out,” he remarked and Patricius could feel Jonas beside him flinch violently. But, his wonderful, defiant Teuton lifted his chin up and cleared his throat. “Yes, we did, Legatus. I want to apologize for what I accused Patricius of this morning. I was the one leaving the hickey on his throat in my sleep and he didn't do anything wrong.”

There was stunned silence for one moment, but then, Septimus and Quirinius bowed their heads before the young Mattiacer. “You don't have to explain yourself, Jonas, but we value your honesty, highly. Thank you.”

Jonas' shoulders slumped with relief and Patricius wrapped his arm around him and pulled him close. Marcus nodded approvingly. “Thank you, Jonas, I appreciate your courage and honesty. We will forget this incident and never mention it again.” He looked at each of his men and they all nodded and mumbled something in agreement.

Erik and Julius came back with the collected wood, smiling at Jonas as they sat down. The centurion reached out for a slice of bread to offer it to his Teuton. “I know that you are not hungry, but please try to eat at least a little bit.” Jonas took the bread with a shy smile, starting to nibble at it. Patricius bit into an apple, enjoying the feeling of Jonas' body leaning against his shoulder.

Erik cleared his throat, gazing uncertainly forth and back between his lover and his childhood friend. “Would you mind me sleeping in the same tent with Jonas and Patricius tonight, Marcus? It will be pretty chilly, and Patricius can only warm his front or his back. Jonas will need as much warmth as possible and it would mean a lot to me.”

The Roman legatus placed a tender kiss on his cheek. “No, Erik, I don't mind that, at all. Just do it.”

“Thank you, Marcus,” Erik said, happily, returning the favor and kissing Marcus on his stubbly cheek, too. Jonas sniffed by his friend's words, and Patricius would have kissed Erik with gratitude himself if he hadn't feared that his commander would get it all wrong. Jonas needed his friend so badly, and Erik's words obviously meant the world to him, the blond Roman could feel that.

Marcus considered his men, contentedly. “Rufus, Severus, you will sleep in the same tent with Septimus and Quirinius. It will be crowded, but warmth is more important than space tonight. Julius and Malte will share the tent with me. We also need to talk about the watch.”

Malte surprised all of them as he spoke up before one of the others could utter a single word. “I want to take part in the watch, Marcus! My muscles ache, but I'm feeling surprisingly well and I really want to do that.”

Marcus smiled at him. “Then you will have the first watch with Julius, Malte. Qurinius and Septimus will take over from you, and Severus and Rufus from them. I will take the last watch before we will leave the clearing.”

“I want to be on guard duty with you, Marcus!” Erik objected, but the older man shook his head. “The next time, Erik. The late night before the morning dawns is the coldest part of the night and Jonas needs your body heat then more than ever. You are exhausted and I need you to be well-rested and with sharp senses.”

“But!” Erik wanted to object, but Marcus laid his finger on his lips. “I don't go easy on you because I love you, Erik. You will get your fair amount of guard duties, don't worry about that. But, this region is unknown to all of us, and you are a prince and important to your tribe, Erik. You are in as much danger to get attacked or trapped as us Romans are, and I need to be sure that you won't make mistakes or act too slowly in case of an attack because you're exhausted. Today was almost as straining for you as it was for Jonas and you need your rest.”

Severus and Julius nodded in unison. “Marcus is right, Erik. Jonas needs you more tonight and you will get your chance to stay on guard duty. No one here thinks that Marcus spares you because he loves you. We know that he would never do that.”

Erik sighed, but nodded his head. “Very well,” he smiled at Patricius. “Let's put him to bed, then, Patricius. Jonas can't keep his eyes open any longer.”

Patricius turned his head and Jonas blinked at him. He had eaten half of the bread and the centurion gently took it from him. The Mattiacer needed sleep more than food right now. “Come, Jonas, you need to rest,” he murmured and Jonas' grateful glance went straight to his heart. He would never let him down and protect him with his own life, that much the Roman warrior knew for sure.

 

\----------------------------------------------------

 

Jonas had feared the forthcoming night so much, thinking of the loneliness and coldness awaiting him when he would be left alone while his friends and companions would have someone to warm and hold them during the night.

And now he lay there, snuggled close to Patricius' tall frame, his head pillowed on his chest and the centurion's strong arms wrapped firmly around him while his childhood friend Erik protected his back, forming a cocoon with the Roman to warm him. The night was cold and the ground was hard, but Jonas felt warm and safe and comforted like he had never felt before, content and almost happy. His head was pounding, and he still felt dizzy and slightly nauseous, his muscles aching with every move, but lying here in Patricius' arms felt like heaven on Earth.

“Are you sure that it won't be too uncomfortable for you?” he mumbled and Patricius gently kissed his hair. “As long as you are fine and comfortable, I will be fine and comfortable, as well, Jonas. Don't worry about me. I only want to take care of you. Tomorrow morning, I will massage your legs and your back before we will ride again, but sleep is the most important thing right now.”

Jonas sighed, raising his head a little bit. “Erik, are you alright?” he murmured and his friend gently wrapped his arm around him. “I am fine, don't worry about me, Jonas.”

“Thank you,” Jonas whispered, not sure whether he meant Erik with that, Patricius or both of them. “You're welcome, Jonas,” his two friends answered in unison and Jonas smiled, thinking of the possibility that one of his friends would hopefully become more than only his friends one day.

The one he wanted to be more than his friend stroked over his cheek. “Sleep well, my defiant Teuton,” he said and the tenderness in his voice let the words 'defiant Teuton' sound like a caress and not like an insult, at all. “Just close your eyes and go to sleep my sweet, defiant Teuton.”

And Jonas did.


	35. The Attack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonas has made up with Patricius and they had to stay on a clearing during the night. What will happen the next day? Will they reach the inn undisturbed?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is shorter again and there will be canon and time-line typical violence in this chapter. No unnecessary cruelty, but the ancient times were rather harsh sometimes. This chapter moves on with the plot, please, let me know what you think, your feedback is important to me and what keeps me writing. :-)

The night had gone by uneventful. Marcus had shared the tent with Julius and Malte after their watch, grateful for their body heat warming him, because the nights were still rather chilly and the experienced officer knew that he had to be fit and at his best to lead this rescue-mission and bring all of them back to the camp, healthy and in one piece. Staying warm during the nights was more than important for this task, and Marcus had overcome the shame and embarrassment every soldier felt at the beginning when it came to cuddling with other, unknown men to stay warm a long time ago. Julius had lain in the middle because Marcus had sensed Malte's issues about cuddling with him, and he had slept deep and dreamless until it had been his turn to take over the watch from Severus and Rufus.

Now, he sat there near the fire, his eyes scanning their surroundings, attentively, while he thought about the last evening. Of course, Marcus understood Jonas' and Malte's mistrust and cautiousness. The young Mattiacers had no reason to trust him and his intentions, no reason except for Albin's willingness to trust the Roman legatus and their friend's love for him, that is. Malte and Jonas knew Erik since they had been small boys and they should know that the heir of their tribe's chief wouldn't forget his people and his loyalty for a moment's pleasure. Marcus suspected that their reservations had more to do with their own attraction towards their guards, Julius and Patricius, and his suspicion had been proved right the previous day.

Marcus hadn't witnessed Jonas' and Patricius' encounter during the night in Flavius' inn, but there was no way that his centurion would ever do what his young charge had accused him of, and Erik's re-telling of what he had heard and seen during the night had confirmed that he was right with his trust in his officer. Luckily, Jonas was not only defiant and proud, but also honorable, honest and brave and they had been able to sort things out, because Marcus had had a hard time with punishing his subordinate for something he hadn't done.

A silent sound caught his attention and he turned his head just in time to see Severus crawl out of the other tent. His first centurion came to him, stifling a yawn on his way. “Good morning, Severus. Can't sleep any longer?” His officer nodded his head. “Good morning, Marcus. I had a weird dream and couldn't go back to sleep anymore.” The young man threw a few branches into the fire, accepting the water bottle Marcus handed him with a grateful nod. “I will take a look at the horses,” Severus stated after a couple of minutes and Marcus smiled at him. “Just do it,” he encouraged him, sensing that the other one craved to have a little time to himself. It must be hard for him to be so close to Rufus without being able to tell him how he truly felt and during the days, he couldn't withdraw for more than only two or three minutes. Marcus watched Severus leave in the direction of the trees where the horses were grazing, a sigh escaping his lips. “Just hold on for a while longer, Severus. I'm sure that he will return your feelings one day, he only needs some time,” he whispered, hoping that his words would come true and Rufus find his own happiness with his centurion one day.

 

\---------------------------------------------------------

 

After a quick breakfast, they were on their way again, Marcus and Erik riding at the front, and Jonas who looked still pale but much better than the previous day following with Patricius. Julius and Malte rode in front of Septimus and Quirinius holding the reins of the pack horses, and Severus and Rufus were watching their backs, each of his soldiers and officers knowing what they were supposed to do. Rufus was a damn good fighter himself and Marcus didn't doubt that Malte and Jonas were excellent fighters themselves. He knew that Erik was, he had watched him fighting the day they had met, when his beloved Teuton prince had tried to kill him. The thought of Erik's first days in his camp made him smile and Erik turned his head to look at him.

“What's so funny, Marcus?” he asked, and the Roman legatus reached out, stroking briefly over his stubbly cheek. “I remembered your first days in my camp, Erik,” he replied, making the brunet blush with his words. “I'd rather not remember my behavior,” his beautiful prince mumbled and Marcus suppressed a tender chuckle. “I always respected and understood your feelings, Erik – as much as I respect and understand Jonas and Malte and their behavior.”

Erik sighed, turning in his saddle to look back at Jonas and Patricius. His younger friend rode closely beside the centurion, and Patricius watched him with eagle eyes, searching for any sign of discomfort, but leaving the young man alone, sensing that Jonas needed to keep his attention aimed at his horse in his still rather weak state. “Jonas is confused and exhausted, but he trusts Patricius and I am sure that he likes him very much. He tried to crawl into him in his sleep again and he protested every time Patricius merely shifted his weight,” he said with a smile and Marcus grinned.

“So you're not the only Teuton cuddle bear, this seems to be a habit a lot of Teutons share with each other,” he drawled and Erik scowled at him, his blush deepening. Marcus could feel the well-known longing to kiss his beloved Mattiacer senseless rising in his chest he always felt when Erik looked at him this way. “I love you, Erik,” he whispered instead, and Erik's hazel-green eyes looked back at him with the same longing and tenderness.

“I love you, too, Marcus and I'm only a cuddle bear when it comes to you,” he assured his Roman lover and Marcus knew that this was the truth.

 

\-----------------------------------------------------

 

It happened after their lunch break, when they were on their way to the inn Flavius had told them about. They had passed another hamlet a while ago, and Marcus' eyes never left the shadows between the huge trees their small path winded itself through, knowing that they had to keep their eyes open and their minds focused on the unknown territory, but the attack out of the blue caught him by surprise, nonetheless.

The hissing sound as an arrow darted through the cool air startled each member of their group, and Julius couldn't suppress the strangled cry escaping his lips as the arrow hit the trunk of the tree right beside him, its feathered end trembling as the tip drilled into the bark of the oak. The next arrow fell down to the ground in front of Thunder, and Marcus' stallion neighed loudly, rising on his hind legs. For one moment, Marcus felt frozen in place, the memories of what had happened in the Teutoburger Wald a couple of years ago slowing down his reaction time.

After one second of immobility, he forced his Arab back onto his four legs, but before he could yell some orders, Erik and Jonas had pressed their heels into the flanks of their own horses, tearing into the dark forest to their left from where the arrows had come. Marcus didn't think twice, jerking Thunder's head around to follow the two Mattiacers and his sword almost flew into his hand to its own will. He could see Malte taking his own bow from the corner of his eye, and he ducked his head down on Thunder's neck as the arrow Malte had shot whooshed through the air close to his ear. Erik and Jonas were a already about fifty meters ahead of him, the latter throwing his knife at one of their attackers running from tree to tree for a cover. The dagger found its aim as it hit the fleeing man right into his left shoulder and the unknown adversary cried out and fell down to the ground.

Erik in the meantime had thrown his own dagger after one of the other men, the sharp knife grazing the attacker's left side before falling down to the ground. The tall Teuton cried out, pressing his hand onto the bleeding wound, but he kept running, disappearing into the dark forest where the horses couldn't follow them. Marcus galloped deeper into the thicket as he followed the third man, his sword making short work as he hit the man with the broad side of it against his temple to knock him off his feet. He wanted him alive to question him and when the man fell, Marcus jumped from Thunder in full speed, pressing the tip of his sword against the back of his attacker. “Don't move or you are a dead man!” he growled, whistling for Thunder. His Arab had run a few more meters before he could stop, turning around and coming back to his owner with a neigh. His captive growled, but didn't move and Marcus bent down to tie his hands with the ropes he kept in the bag behind Thunder's saddle after fishing them out of the bag one-handed.

He had just finished his work when Erik and Jonas appeared beside him, holding the reins of their mounts in their hands. “They were six men, but they managed to escape, except for this one and the one Jonas has shot.” Marcus smiled grimly at the shorter one. “Good job, Jonas,” he stated and Jonas' eyes lit up. “Thank you, Marcus. I am one of Albin's personal guards for a reason.”

“I never thought anything else, Jonas. Did you kill him?” Marcus asked, pulling the tied up captive harshly to his feet.

“No, I don't think so. Do you want to leave him here?” Jonas' face was unreadable, but Marcus knew what was going on in his mind. “No, I won't. I would never leave a wounded man lying helplessly on the ground to let him die. We will take him with us to the inn, I want to question them. Something tells me that they might know something about Lioba and her disappearance.”

Erik shot the dark-haired Teuton staring angrily at them a suspicious look with narrowed eyes. “I see. Let's pick up the other one, then, I can't wait to hear their story,” he said, impassively, but with a dangerous undertone in his voice, and Marcus was briefly stunned about the sudden change in his sweet Teuton's behavior. Erik looked like a determined and dangerous warrior, his jaw tensed, his shoulders straight, and the expression in his eyes would send shivers along his spine if it were him Erik was looking at this way.

Marcus shoved the captive through the thicket, Thunder following him without hesitation. Erik pushed the reins of his horse into Jonas' hands and made his way to the spot where the injured man was lying in the grass, hauling him up and pulling the rather thin Teuton with him back to the place where they had left the others. When Jonas wanted to tug at the knife, Marcus shook his head. “You have to wait with that, Jonas. We need to dress him with a bandage, he could bleed out otherwise.”

“Yes, of course,” Jonas mumbled, shooting a disgusted look at the two attackers. “To which tribe do you belong?” he snarled at the man stumbling along the path, and the dark-haired Teuton pressed his lips to a thin line. “Answer him, man!” Marcus said, calmly, but the undertone in his voice made clear that he'd better obey the legatus' order and answer to Jonas' question.

“Nemeter,” he snarled, his voice trembling audibly.

“Your name, Nemeter?”

“Hakon.” the rather tall man mumbled, stumbling over a root. Marcus caught him before he could fall down, but he let go of Hakon, instantly, when he saw Rufus kneeling beside a figure lying motionless on the grass.

“Rufus, what happened?” he called out, shoving Hakon onto the path and in Julius' and Malte's direction. Septimus and Quirinius were busied with the horses while Patricius knelt beside Rufus, his face pale and his hands covered with blood.

Marcus rushed to them, knowing that Thunder wouldn't try to run away from him. He sank down onto his knees beside Severus who lay on the ground, his face white like snow, and the commander of the camp Mogontiacum swallowed down bitter bile when he saw the arrow sticking in his centurion's right shoulder-blade.

Rufus raised his head, a desperate expression on his handsome features. “Severus was shot, Marcus. These ugly, gutless creatures have shot him in his back!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know, cliffhanger again. A rather evil one this time, I have to admit... And no, I'm not sorry for this cliffhanger, please, bear with me, I'll try to make up for it.


	36. Stay With Us!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcus and his companions had been attacked and Severus became severely injured. Will they find shelter in the Teuton village nearby and will Severus stay alive during their ride there?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My dear readers, I was asked to update this story and I decided to write another chapter even though there are other stories waiting for an update for much longer. I hope you will like it and follow my boys on their long journey 'til the end.  
> I can hardly believe that this for me very special story moves towards the ten thousand hits, and I am so grateful for each and every hit, kudo, comment, bookmark and subscription. I know that this story is rather uncommon, being an AU settled in the ancient world and having nothing to do with football, at all. You showing me that you like my Roman Marcus Retus and his Teuton prince Erik as much as I do with those visible signs means the world to me and is the reason why I haven't given up on this story so far, even though I thought about removing it from this fandom several times.  
> Please, share your thoughts with me about this chapter and tell me what you think, your feedback is invaluable for me. 
> 
> I am aware that 'Teuton' is the Roman and Greek term for the many tribes living in ancient Germania, and that the tribes never called themselves Teutons. I did a lot of research to describe this world acurately and I found proof of the Mattiacers and the Nemeters living near Mainz (Mogontiacum) around 16 A.C, but I am not so sure about each tribe of this era and therefore chose to use the Roman term 'Teuton' for the other tribes living there.

Erik stared down at the blond centurion, at the nasty wound on his back, and he could feel fury rising in his gut, a fury he had never felt before in his entire life. It had been his people who had cowardly shot a good man in his back, other Teutons, lying in ambush to kill their group without risking to endanger themselves.

Like Arminius had done it a couple of years ago. Feigning friendship and loyalty while conspiring with the enemies of the Roman Empire and finally making sure that none of the many Roman legionaries would survive their attack. Erik had heard Marcus' soldiers talking about the horrible battle in the Teutoburger Wald in the camp now and then, and each one of them seemed to have lost a friend or relative back then, still grieving their losses. Erik had always been proud of the other Teuton's victory, thinking that their Roman enemies had deserved to be slaughtered that way. But then, he had fallen in love with one special blond Roman and he had learned more about his former enemies and found himself having been wrong about that. Not all Romans were cruel and hateful, just like not each Teuton was an innocent victim and brave hero.

There was not only black and white in this world, but many different shades of gray, and Erik desperately wished that he wouldn't have had to learn this lesson the hard way with Marcus' brave and kind centurion becoming severely injured because of the gutless assault of other Teutons.

Erik felt sick to his stomach with shame as he now stared down at Severus; who had become his friend over the past weeks and who was lying bleeding and unconscious on a small, overgrown path in the middle of nowhere right now, just because he had wanted to help Erik to find his sister, someone he didn't even know.

The feeling of shame and self-hate was almost crushing Erik as he stood there, because he had done much the same as Arminius had done a couple of years ago and as those Nemeters had done today.

He had lain in an ambush as well - just like them to cowardly attack and kill the only man he could and would ever love – even though he of course hadn't known this when he had attacked Marcus on that fateful afternoon. And now, he had to question himself if it was a characteristic of all Teutons to always attack their enemies from an ambush instead of fighting battles on a field where both parties had the same chances. The Romans being better armed and trained in battles couldn't be the only reason, and it also wasn't an excuse for this cowardice, at least not in Erik's opinion. This thought was disturbing and scaring, and Erik found himself standing before Severus' motionless body frozen in place, unable to move one single limb himself. Severus couldn't die, he simply couldn't. Not because of another Teuton attack from behind.

Marcus' grim words finally pulled him out of his paralyzed state. “Erik, stop that! I need you focused!”

The young Mattiacer flinched and shook his head to clear his mind and finally knelt down beside the Roman legatus. “We can't pull the arrow out of his wound right here and now, but, we need to cut the arrow without removing the tip!” he said hoarsely, taking his sharp knife. “Marcus, please make sure that the tip won't be pushed deeper into his shoulder-blade and cause further damage when I shorten the shaft. Rufus, Patricius, you have to hold him down in case Severus wakes up while I cut the arrow. We can't risk the wound becoming worse than it already is!”

Rufus nodded his head, his face pale and his lips pressed to a thin line, and Patricius shot him a brief, surprised look. Erik allowed himself a sad smile as he grasped the arrow. “I've done this before, Patricius,” he said simply. Marcus' face showed only calm but firm determination like it had done ever since they had come back to the spot where they had left their companions and learned about Severus' injury. It was clear that he would do everything that was necessary to save his centurion's life, and he didn't try to argue with Erik and cut the arrow himself, just held the tip in place without caring about the red blood coating his hand, instantly, as he did so. “Go ahead, Erik,” was all he said, and only the slight huskiness of his voice betrayed his true feelings.

Erik made sure with one last look that Patricius and Rufus were ready too, and then took a deep breath and cut the arrow as close to the tip as he dared to do without injuring Severus even more. Sweat covered his forehead although it was rather chilly, and he wiped it away before it could sting in his eyes and blur his vision.

“Malte, I need something to bandage him. We can't remove the tip here, we need to reach the next village as fast as possible, but we have to stop the bleeding,” he ordered without looking up from his task, and the tearing of linen garment proved to him that his childhood friend knew what to do as much as he did. Severus had neither moved, nor woken up during the procedure, and the young Teuton wasn't sure whether he should be scared or feel relieved because of that.

“Here, Erik.” Malte handed him a long stripe of his ow tunic and with the help of the three other men, they managed to bandage Severus as good as it was possible under these circumstances. His knees felt like jelly when he eventually stood up and he was grateful for Malte supporting him, gifting him with a small smile. When he looked around, he could see that Jonas, Julius, Septimus and Quirinius had seen to their horses and the two captives, the wounded one bandaged like Severus, sparing only the handle of Jonas' dagger still sticking out of the injury. Julius considered Hakon with a disgusted look. “We can't let him run behind the horses, Severus needs proper medical help. I fear that we have to let him ride on one of the horses,” he stated and Marcus nodded his head.

“I know, Julius. He will ride on Quirinius' horse. Julius, you have to take the other one, you weight less than Patricius. Malte, Jonas, you have to share Malte's horse, because Quirinius needs yours, Jonas,” the legatus ordered, and both Mattiacers let out a short sound of agreement, walking over to Malte's mount. Marcus waited for the others to climb their horses, gifting Erik's friends with a brief smile when Jonas sitting behind Malte took the reins of Hakon's horse with an unmistakable gesture. “I have another dagger, Nemeter. Be certain that you will regret it if you only dare thinking of trying to escape. If I had wanted to kill your accomplice, he would be dead by now,” the shorter brunet remarked almost casually, but his dangerously glowing eyes left no doubt that he meant what he had said, and the Nemeter subdued nodded his head.

Hakon sitting on Quirinius' horse with slumped shoulders looked considerably intimidated, it was clear that he had somehow expected their group to be easy to defeat, a stupidity Erik could only shake his head about in astonishment. But this was not the right time to let himself be distracted by those thoughts, and Erik turned around to Marcus, Rufus and Patricius still kneeling beside Severus.

“I guess that you will take Severus, Marcus?” he asked, and his beloved Roman looked up at him and accepted Erik's helping hand to get back onto his feet. “Yes, Erik. Thunder doesn't need reins to obey my orders, and he is strong enough to carry both of us. You just have to help Rufus and Patricius lifting him up to me.”

“Of course, Marcus.” Erik could understand that his lover wanted to take Severus himself, the remarkable commander of a big and important Roman camp would never have let anybody else take care of his men, one of the reasons why his subordinates loved and adored him that much, ready to follow him to hell and back if necessary. He would have done the same if it had been Jonas or Malte being shot by a coward, and Erik was glad that Rufus stayed silent, even though he apparently wanted to be the one holding Severus during their ride. But, Marcus was his master and his friend, and the red-haired Celt trusted him enough to accept Marcus' decision without any protest.

Lifting Severus up without causing more damage was a hard and tricky task, but together they managed to do so, and after two or three minutes that felt like an eternity, Severus was seated on Thunder standing perfectly still, his front leaning heavily against Marcus' slim but strong frame. Erik, Rufus and Patricius were the last ones to mount their own horses, the young centurion taking the lead this time. Erik followed him beside Marcus, ready to lend a helping hand whenever it might become necessary while Rufus saw to the pack horses.

The young Teuton prince didn't need to turn around to know that Malte, Jonas and Julius wouldn't let Hakon escape, and he concentrated on their surroundings instead, promising himself that he would protect his companions and make sure that they wouldn't get attacked again. Severus was a good man, and Erik would defend him and the others with his own life without hesitation. After all, they were searching for his sister, and the least he could do was to protect their group from a second assault. Severus, Patricius and Julius had joined their mission, freely and willingly, Marcus hadn't needed to order them to come with him, at all. Quite the opposite, they had asked to be a part of their mission, and Erik was deeply touched by their willingness to risk their lives for a young Teuton woman they didn't know and who meant nothing to them, just because they wanted to help their commander's Teuton lover .

 _'Please, my friend, stay with us! Don't die!'_ he prayed silently to himself as his gaze fell onto Severus' blood-stained armor, and his heart clenched with fear and regret. _'Rufus starts to return your feelings, there is so much waiting for you on this Earth, you can't leave us!'_

Maybe, it was his quiet prayer, or maybe simply the movements of the stallion carefully making his way along the path, but Erik held his breath when Severus suddenly stirred in Marcus' arms, moving slightly and mumbling something unintelligible before another unconsciousness claimed him again. Marcus shot the Mattiacer an encouraging smile, and Erik smiled back, new hope warming him from the inside.

“Just hold on, my friend. Marcus and I won't let you die here,” he whispered to the now motionless figure again, and Marcus reached out with his hand to touch Erik's arm for one second.

“No, Erik, we won't. Severus will live, you have my word on that.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------

 

They reached the next village within half an hour, undisturbed and much faster than Marcus had feared they would. The settlement was rather small, but much bigger than the hamlet where they had stayed during the first night, and when their group entered the large meeting place in the middle of it, several men and women gathered around them, watching them curiously and a little bit mistrustfully.

“We have not come to attack or to harm you!” Marcus said when Thunder had come to halt near one of the larger buildings. “We only need a place to stay where we can see to our injured friend. He was shot in his back and he needs medical help as fast as possible or he will die.”

Silent murmur filled the fragrant air of the late afternoon and none of the settlers moved, but then, one of the men surrounding them stepped closer and spoke up. He was a middle-aged man reminding Marcus of Flavius although he was a Teuton by origin without a doubt.

“I am the innkeeper of this village. Our chief is not here and I am the one in charge of this village when he is away. If you're speaking the truth and have come in peace, then you're welcome to stay in my house as long as you need and until your centurion has recovered from his injury,” he said, looking Marcus straight in the eyes without any sign of fear.

Marcus looked back, his face impassive but his eyes filled with gratitude. “I told you the truth, innkeeper. We wanted to stay here for only one night on our way to Augusta Treverorum, but we will have to count on your hospitality for much longer, I guess. We were attacked from behind and we brought two of the attackers with us.”

Severus' weight was heavy in his arms and Marcus wanted nothing more than to climb from his Arab and see to hisfriend's wounds, but they had to make their intentions clear at first and to find out if it would be safe for them to stay here.

The tall and broadly built Teuton with the dark hair narrowed his eyes as he considered Hakon and the injured man on Julius' horse. “They have nothing to do with us!” he stated, grimly, looking back at Marcus.

“I didn't think that he did, innkeeper. I only wanted to be honest with you. As you can see, there are three Mattiacers accompanying us, and they are not our captives, but our friends. Please, we need a place to see to Severus' and the other man's wounds. We don't mean anything bad.”

The crowd was silently watching Marcus and the innkeeper staring at each other, and Marcus held his breath, hoping that the older man would trust his words enough to let them stay. Finally, the dark-haired Teuton nodded his head.

“I will help you lifting your friend from your horse,” he said. “You can stay as long as you want to stay, Roman. You are welcome and you and your men will be safe here. My name is Gebhard.”

“I am Marcus Retus. Thank you for your hospitality, Gebhard,” Marcus thanked him, feeling utterly relieved. Erik jumped from his horse the second the innkeeper had finished his sentence to help the him lifting Severus from the black stallion without tearing the wound on Severus' back more open, and the other members of their small group followed his example.

Marcus waited until he was sure that Severus was in safe hands before he dismounted his beautiful Arab, handing the reins to Quirinus. “You will be a good boy and let Quirinius take care of you, Thunder, won't you? My friend is injured and needs me right now,” he murmured into Thunder's twitching ear, and his beloved stallion neighed softly, rubbing his nose against Marcus' thigh in approval. “This is my good boy!” Marcus praised him, patting his shining black neck one last time. He knew that Quirinius and Septimus would watch out and make sure that no one tried to steal their horses or their belongings.

Then, he followed Gebhard and Erik inside the house. “You can have my room, he will be more comfortable there,” the Teuton told them while he carried Severus as if he weighted nothing. He crossed the taproom with large steps and pushed a door open with his foot that was at the other side of the large room, opposite to the entrance. Marcus had seen enough Teuton houses to know that they normally didn't have separate rooms, but the Teutons living near the frontier to the Roman territory had accommodated themselves to their neighbors rather quickly, and most of the larger inns like this one or the one Flavius called his own had several rooms for the travelers staying overnight. Gebhard seemed to live here on his own, and he obviously appreciated his privacy.

The tall and grimly looking innkeeper carefully lowered Severus down onto his bed, bedding him on his front. The bandage had soaked dark red with the centurion's blood during their ride, and Marcus watched Gebhard stroking his pale cheek with an almost fatherly gesture. “Poor boy, it hit you hard this time,” he rumbled, flinching slightly as he took a closer look at Severus' handsome features.

Marcus tensed up. “What's wrong, Gebhard?” he asked, warily, and the Teuton shook his head to clear his mind. “Nothing. Your centurion only reminds me of someone I know well. I will see to hot water and fresh bandages. Is there anyone among your group having the knowledge to take care of his injury?”

“Yes, my friend Rufus here.” Marcus pointed at his personal slave standing a few steps behind him. Rufus had followed them, silently, his face an impassive mask, but Marcus knew exactly how his friend felt, being able to read his thoughts after the long time Rufus served him.

“Me, too. I will help Rufus,” Erik spoke up firmly. His wonderful Teuton prince smiled at him. “You promised me that Severus will live. I promise you the same now, Marcus. You need to question Hakon and make sure that his accomplice will get help, as well, so we can question him when he is conscious again, too. I have seen to nasty wounds beforehand and Rufus and I won't let Severus die, you have my word on that, Marcus.”

Marcus throat went tight with the emotions he had to hold back for not only his own sake. “Thank you, Erik, I know that Rufus and you will do everything you can do to save him,” was all he could say without his voice breaking and betraying how he truly felt. He knelt down before the bed Severus lay upon, taking his cold fingers into his warm ones. “I expect you to fight and live, Severus, do you hear me?” he whispered against his snow-white skin. “You are my dear friend and I need you. Rufus needs you. You won't give up and die here! Please stay with us!”

Marcus gently squeezed his friend's limp fingers, searching for any sign that the young centurion would wake up from his coma, but Severus didn't even flinch, only his flat breathing giving away that he was still alive.

“Marcus, please, we need to remove the tip of the arrow and treat his injury, now,” Rufus whispered desperately, the first words he had uttered within the last hour. His soft brown eyes were dark with fear and grief, and after one more moment, Marcus nodded his head and stood up.

The Roman legatus patted Rufus' shoulder and entangled his fingers with Erik's, searching his gaze, and then, he turned around and left the room without another word.

His friend was fighting for his life and everything inside Marcus screamed to stay by his side and fight with him, but Erik was right with what he had said.

He was Marcus Retus, the Roman legatus of the fortified camp Mogontiacum, and he had a job to do and to make sure that the ones who had attacked them and shot his friend in his back would never ever be able to do something like this again.


	37. The Interrogation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus had been shot and is fighting for his life now while Erik and Rufus are trying to save him. Marcus in the meantime has to question the captive Hakon, and the things he learns during the interrogation might be as surprising as what he learns about their hosts and the chief of the village...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I'm back with this story. When I posted the last chapter, my favorite WIP ever had had about 9800 hits, and now, it has more than 10.300. I know that it has been a rather long time, but I needed to figure out the plot more closely but, I think I have found a good solution for the next happenings. You will learn more about it in the next chapters.
> 
> There is another Teuton tribe being mentioned in this chapter: the Chatti (German: Chatten). I didn't find the singular form of this tribe, but judging by what I have found in a panel, 'Chat' would fit best as singular. The Chatti actually lived in the north of Hesse near the city Kassel, but after the battle of the Teutoburger Wald in which they had fought against the Romans, a lot of them were slaughtered by the Romans in revenge and I found it believable that some of them had searched for a new home down south. The Chatti are most likely the ancestors of the Hessians.
> 
> My dear REAX, this chapter is entirely for you and only posted that early because of you, and I want to thank you for pushing me to update this story. I hope that you will like the surprises I put in there for you, thank you for loving this story so much. To know that you love my Roman Marcus and his defiant Teuton Erik as much as I do means the world to me. :-*
> 
> My dear friends GoForGoals and funfan, I hope that you're still liking this story as much as you did when I started it. :-)
> 
> My dear readers, you leaving feedback for me would be the greatest motivation to update soon again, so if you liked this chapter, please let me know!

Marcus left the inn deeply lost in his thoughts, his worries about his dear friend gnawing on him, and only his well-trained reflexes kept him from flinching, violently, when a voice next to him spoke up all of a sudden.

“The conscious prisoner has been brought to the house of our chief. We expect his return tonight or tomorrow at the latest, he will have to decide about their punishment. You can question them, but it won't be upon you to decide about their fate, Roman.”

The Roman legatus looked to his left side, seeing a Teuton in his late twenties or early thirties standing there and watching him, the aura of an experienced warrior radiating from him. The eyes of the tall, brown-haired Teuton observed him, appraisingly while his features gave nothing away, but the steel-hard undertone in his voice made clear that there would be no debate about Hakon and the other attacker being punished by other Teutons and not Romans. Marcus knew better than to argue and apart from that, he wasn't interested in punishing them, their mission not allowing any further delay. The only thing he was interested in was to get the needed information out of them, and he had learned a long time ago that torturing prisoners wouldn't get him anywhere, because tortured people tended to lie and tell their tormentors what they wanted to hear just to end the torture instead of telling the truth.

“I'm only interested in the information they can most likely provide us with, Teuton. I respect your laws and I won't argue with your chief about them and your right to choose an appropriate punishment for those who endangered your settlement with their attack, as well. I'm fine with you being a witness of my interrogation, so you can see that I'm honest about that,” he said, hardly recognizing his own voice. He sounded hoarse and as exhausted as he hadn't felt in a rather long time, and one more look into the other one's eyes told him that the unknown Teuton had noticed the state he was in, as well, because his expression became slightly friendlier.

“Then come with me, I will lead you the way. My name is Benno, by the way, Marcus Retus. I am responsible for securing our village while our chief is away.”

Marcus only nodded silently, following the warrior with the name Benno to the house he had pointed at earlier. There were only few other inhabitants crossing their way, and they left the two men alone, shooting only quick observant glances in their direction. “Have you seen to the wound of the other one?” he asked when they entered the house, and Benno turned his head to look at him. “Our healer is still with him, he hadn't woken up when I left to wait for you outside. They are guarded by four of our best men, but the injured one is not in the state to go anywhere or to respond to your questions. You'll have to focus on the one calling himself Hakon.”

“I thought so. I only don't want the other one to die because no one saw to his injury. If you had refused to help him, I would have let my own men see to him,” he replied sharply, and Benno's eyes lit up with something that could either be anger or respect and something akin to unwilling admiration. “You're only fearing that Hakon won't tell you what you need to know. You Romans are not interested in any Teuton's well-being,” the Teuton rumbled, but his voice didn't sound very convinced about what he had said.

Marcus let out a snort. “I know that you have no reasons to trust me and my Roman legionaries, Benno. But, you're welcome to talk to Erik, Malte and Jonas privately. Maybe, you will change your mind after that talk.”

Benno darted him a mocking glance. “I'm not sure that they will tell me the truth, but I will do that, don't you doubt that, legatus.” He pointed at the dark figure sitting on the floor at the wall opposite the door where they had entered the house. Marcus could see that Hakon was tied to an iron ring attached to the wall, another iron ring enclosing his ankle while his hands were tied behind his back. Hakon's shoulders were slumped and gave his discomfort and pain away.

The blond Roman military leader came to an abrupt halt when the memory of Erik being chained and tied unbidden rose to the surface of his consciousness, and he had to swallow down the bitter bile that threatened to make a sudden appearance as he stared down at their attacker, taking in the sight of misery and hopelessness before his hurting eyes.

As strange as it was, but the grayness filling the room because of the window-less structure of the long house made him see what he hadn't noticed in the forests because if his fury and worries, and Marcus swallowed again when he realized that the captive couldn't be much older than only seventeen or eighteen, hardly grown-up, and the expression in his gray eyes was the one of a deadly wounded animal. This young man was responsible for Severus having been shot, but he reminded Marcus painfully of Erik, and he couldn't bring himself to hate Hakon and condemn him the way he probably should.

Erik had attacked him from an ambush and yet, he had been willing to listen to him and give him a chance to prove himself even though he had tried to kill him in the first place. Yes, Marcus had seen right away that his wonderful defiant Teuton was someone special and had been drawn in by his beauty and his tough behavior, while Hakon clearly wasn't an important prince or as handsome as the young Mattiacer who had trapped his heart was. But he deserved to be heard nevertheless, and the young legatus was willing to give him one single chance and put in a good word for him by the chief of the settlement when he came back if Hakon cooperated with him and told him what he wanted to know.

Benno had watched him while he had watched Hakon, and he must have seen some of his confused feelings in his face because he didn't look surprised when Marcus held his gaze and said in a firm voice: “Untie his hands and see to him getting some water. He is dehydrated and needs to drink.”

Hakon's eyes widened with stunned disbelief though, his glance darting back and forth between Marcus and Benno, unsure which one of them he should fear more, the Roman or the other Teuton. Marcus halfway expected the tall warrior to tell him that he wouldn't obey a hated Roman's order, but Benno proved his suspicion wrong because he only nodded after one long moment of hesitation and crossed the room to do as Marcus had told him. He gestured to one of the two men standing on guard duty Marcus had seen but not heeded before, and the blond Teuton stepped to a table at one side of the large room that served as a kitchen, dining room and living room at once, filling a wooden mug with water.

Benno bent down to untie Hakon's hands without saying a word, and Marcus mused about the reason behind his obedience for a couple of seconds but then, pushed this thought back into the farthest corner of his mind. He needed to focus on Hakon and what the young man could tell him about Lioba and the backers behind the attack, because he truly doubted that this almost still juvenile or his accomplishes were the ones responsible for it. No, Hakon had been convinced or pushed to attack him and his group, and Marcus wouldn't rest until he had found the one who wanted to see him and his men dead.

He stepped to the young guard and took the mug from him, crouching down before the place where Hakon was sitting, rubbing his wrists to ease the pain in his strained arms and the numb feeling in his fingers where the ropes had cut of his blood-circulation. The dark-haired young man glanced at him from underneath his eyelids, his dirty face with the scruffy stubble that could hardly be called a beard a mixture of defiance, hate and real fear. Marcus had to suppress a sad smile because he remembered this expression so well from the way Erik had looked at him at the beginning of their acquaintance. But, there was also the tiniest spark of hope in the with sadness and resignation shaded eyes, and this small spark gave Marcus the hope that he would be able to reach him and that Hakon would finally tell him why he had attacked him.

“Drink!” he said tersely, knowing that he had to keep his distance from the young Nemeter and that Hakon would take too much kindness as a sign of weakness.

“I'd rather not be poisoned. If I'll have to die, then with a sword in my hand like every proud Teuton should die!” Hakon objected, but his trembling voice betrayed his faked courage, and he couldn't hide his furtively longing glances darting to the mug against his will.

Marcus let out a snort. “Where have your pride and your sword been when you've shot a brave centurion in his back like only cowards do, Nemeter? Tell me one reason why I shouldn't kill you right away because of what you've done to my friend!” he snarled into the younger one's face, and Hakon flinched away from him, pulling his knees to his torso to protect himself.

“That hasn't been me!” he whined, all braveness and pride being erased by the impressive Roman's newly awakened anger. Marcus couldn't believe that he hadn't noticed earlier how young the Nemeter still was, looking only like the scared boy he actually was now instead of the grown-up assassin Marcus had first took him for.

“Tell me why I should believe you!” Marcus' amber-golden eyes shot angry fire at him, and a small, desperate whimper escaped the boy's lips. “Because it is the truth, I'll swear that by Wotan and Donar and all Teuton Gods!”

“As if I would care about Teuton Gods!” Marcus gave back, his heart aching because damn it, but Hakon reminded him so badly of Erik, and he hated himself for threatening and scaring a desperate young boy that much. Apart from that, he knew that Hakon hadn't carried a bow and arrows, he had carried only a short spear which he had lost when Marcus' sword had hit him. But, he needed the boy's cooperation, and he would get it only if Hakon thought that the Roman would only spare his life when he told him the truth.

“I swear by your Roman Gods, too!” Hakon cried out, his body shaking with mortal fear. “By Jupiter and, and... all Roman Gods you want me to swear!”

“You don't believe in my Gods, it is easy for you to swear a false oath.”

“I'll swear it by my brother's life!” Hakon pleaded for Marcus' mercy he already had without knowing it. A scornful chuckle beside Marcus made him look at Benno. The tall Teuton leaned against the wall beside Hakon with his arms crossed before his chest, staring down at the crouched figure on the floor with a mockingly raised brow. “And who should that be? Your ominous brother?” he now raised his voice for the first time since Marcus had ordered him to untie the Nemeter.

Hakon bit his lip, and the defiance was back on his face for one second before he it was replaced by despair again. He swallowed and looked Marcus straight in the eyes for the first time when he answered Benno's question: “Anselm. My brother is Anselm, the one the Mattiacer Jonas has brought down with his dagger. He is all who's left from my family except for me.” His voice broke and Marcus could see tears in his eyes when the young man cleared his throat and whispered: “Please, don't let him die, take me instead. I will tell you everything, but please, don't let my brother die!”

 

\-----------------------------------------------------

 

There was a long silence before Marcus cleared his throat after digesting what Hakon had just revealed. “We'll see what we can do for your brother, Hakon. Now, drink, the water isn't poisoned, you have my word on that!” Marcus offered him the mug again, and this time, Hakon took it with trembling fingers. The Roman let him drink on his own even though some of the water splashed over the edge of the wooden goblet, but he sensed how important it was for the Nemeter to keep at least the last shreds of his pride and composure, and so he waited patiently until Hakon had emptied the mug and handed it back to him.

Benno had fallen silent again and when Marcus shot him a quick, sidelong glance, he could see that Hakon's hoarse plea had touched the broadly built warrior as much as it had touched him. “I will go and talk to our healer,” he said, pushing himself away from the wall. “If you'll cooperate and tell our Roman guest what he needs to know, maybe our chief will allow you to stay with your brother.”

Hakon nodded eagerly his head. “I will, I promise. I will tell you everything I know.”

“Very well, I'll see to your brother, then. My men will stay and make sure that all you'll do is questioning him, Roman!” Benno said, and Marcus pursed his lips. “You don't have to worry about me conspiring with a desperate boy behind your back, Chat!” he snorted, and Benno's eyebrows jumped up in surprise. “You can tell that we are Chatti?” he asked, his voice betraying his astonishment.

“Sure I can. I'm the military leader of Mogontiacum for a reason. I was surprised at first, because I hadn't expected a settlement of the Chatti that far in the south, but I have met enough Chatti to recognize them.”

“I see. You are right, Marcus, we are Chatti and not Mattiacers or Nemeters. We were forced to leave our homeland and Albin, the chief of the Mattiacer, allowed us to stay and build our new village here at the south-west frontier of his land. Our chief's father negotiated with Albin more than ten years ago, and we live in peace with his people ever since then.”

Marcus found this revelation intriguing to say the least. Benno didn't seem to know who Erik, Malte and Jonas actually were, but this could be because the tough warrior must still have been a boy back then, and children weren't allowed to join such negotiations. It was likely that Albin hadn't taken Erik with him when he had visited the other tribe, leaving him at home where his son was safer.

“I see,” he repeated only Benno's words before focusing on Hakon once more. The Chat hesitated but then, headed for the door, leaving Marcus alone with the Nemeter and the two guards. Marcus finally sat down on the straw-covered ground before Hakon, making himself as comfortable as possible.

“Now, tell me why you attacked me and my men from an ambush, Hakon.”

The young Nemeter took a deep breath. “Our parents and our two older sisters have been killed a couple of months ago. They had been on their way to another village to trade with furs when a group of Sugambers attacked and robbed them, slaughtering all the four of them. The chief of our tribe, Marbod, allowed Anselm and me to stay even though the loss of the furs had brought shame to all of our people. But he told us that we would have to make up for that one day. I, Anselm and some other members of our village who had put Marbod to shame as he had put it. A couple of days ago, two men – probably Romans - came to our village, talking to Marbod. I don't know what they talked about, but when they had left again, he called for Anselm, me and the other ones and ordered us to search for a group of Roman legionaries and Teutons and kill all of them. We searched for two days and when we heard about you and your companions from a shepherd, we knew that we had found whom we had been looking for. Einard, the oldest one of us, told us to hide in the forest because we would never be able to defeat you in close combat.” Hakon hung his head low, staring at the straw underneath his feet. “Marbod forbade us to come home again without the proof that all of you had been killed. He said that we would be outlaws and that no other tribe would take us in and offer us shelter because of the shame our parents had brought to them. He said that we would have to live in the forests and flee from every other Teuton and every Roman for the rest of our lives if we didn't obey,” he then continued, his voice strangled because of the tears he was choking on.

Marcus had listened to him silently, and he knew for sure that Hakon had told him the truth and everything he knew himself. After his return to Mogontiacum, he would make sure that Marbod wouldn't be able to do something like this again, and he would also make sure that Hakon and Anselm would find a new home, either in his camp or in Albin's village. Maybe, Benno's chief would even offer them shelter, judging by the way the young warrior had looked at the boy before he had left them. He felt a little bit disappointed that Hakon didn't know anything about the two mysterious men – Romans – who had visited his chief, but his gut feeling told him that they would find the solution in Augusta Treverorum, and he couldn't wait to get there and search for the answers to his questions.

This thought brought him back to his worries about Severus, and he blinked to clear his mind. “Fair enough, Hakon, I'm willing to believe you. I'll have to see to my injured friend, but I will talk to the chief of the Chatti living here and put in a good word for you. What you have done was wrong and an act of cowardice, but I can see why you thought that you had no other chance, especially because you are still very young. We will try to save your brother, but if you so much as only think of trying to escape, you will regret it, I promise you that.”

Hakon nodded, subdued. “I won't. I have no place to go, anyway,” he whispered, and Marcus swallowed and stood up, looking at the blond guard. “You will see to him getting enough water and food and being allowed to see to his bodily needs. He is a prisoner, but I expect you to treat him well.”

The guards blinked but nodded their heads, reluctantly, apparently not used to getting orders from a Roman. But, Marcus' behavior must have impressed them, because the blond bent down to take the mug and fill it again.

Marcus waited until Hakon had drunk the water, turning around on his heels when Hakon curled himself up to a small ball on the straw. It was time to go back to the inn and see if Erik and Rufus had been able to save his dear friend.

When he stepped out of the house and into the late afternoon sun, he stopped, abruptly, staring at the small group of Chatti that had obviously just arrived. The rather young man in the middle had to be the chief of the village, his posture and the expression on his face showing clearly that he was used to giving orders and make important decisions, but this wasn't what stunned Marcus that much.

The Chat with the long, blond hair tied to a ponytail at the nap of his neck and the well-trimmed blond beard turned his head when he felt Marcus' gaze upon him, and the Roman legatus forgot to breathe when he could see the features of the newcomer perfectly now, because he had seen those features beforehand, oftentimes.

The chief of the Chatti looked back at him with clear blue eyes, eyes Marcus had looked into as oftentimes as he had seen his face, because the eyes and the face of the Teuton were exactly the eyes and the face of his dear friend lying wounded in Gebhard's bed, fighting for his life, and Marcus knew immediately who this Chat was, because Severus had told Marcus about him a lot of times when they had been on guard duty together, his voice filled with longing and melancholy.

The chief of the Chatti living in the neighborhood of Mogontiacum for more than ten years was Severus' long missed twin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, Sven's (Severus') twin has entered the stage, you will learn more about his and Lars' story in the next chapters...  
> I searched for a name that would match with Benedikt/Benni as good as possible, and Benno was the best choice: it means 'tough like a bear'.  
> Lars' Roman name will be revealed later on. :-)


	38. The Twin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcus and his men have found shelter in the village of the Chatti, and Hakon has cooperated and told Marcus everything he knows himself. When Marcus has left Hakon to see to Severus, he suddenly stands face to face with the chief of the Chatti who just came home from his trip, and he looks exactly like Severus. Is the chief of the Chatti really Severus' long missed twin?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised to hurry with the next chapter, and here it is. A little bit shorter, but with more background information about Severus and his brother Lars. I had the choice between two Latin names starting with 'L', and I chose Laetus, which means 'the cheerful one', because this name matches best with Lars. The name of Lars' and Severus' Roman father is Horatius, which sounds at least partly like 'Hartmut', the real name of the twin's father. For all of you who have problems with the Roman and Teuton names: I listed them in the notes at the beginning of this story, you can take a look there for knowing who is who in my story.
> 
> I hope you will enjoy this chapter, my dear readers, please let me know if you did, your opinion is invaluable for me and your kudos and comments are my biggest motivation to keep going with my writing.

Marcus stared at the Chat with his mouth hanging open, something that had happened to him only rare times so far, but he couldn't really bring himself to care about how he must look to others at the moment, the shock about standing face to face with Severus' mysterious twin erasing every reasonable thought.

“Laetus? Laetus Benignus?” he croaked out after what felt like ages, and now, it was the blond Chat's turn to stare at him with his jaw dropped open wide. He recovered much faster from his surprise than Marcus though, maybe because he took the unknown Roman's words for a coincidence.

“I haven't heard this name for a rather long time, Roman. How come that you call me by a Roman name, Marcus Retus? You are Marcus Retus, the Roman legatus Benno told me about, aren't you?” he asked back, closing his mouth and keeping his face as impassive as possible, but Marcus saw how the muscles of his jaw worked.

Benno standing beside the chief of the village must have informed the newcomers about the last happenings, but he hadn't seen Severus and therefore couldn't know about the similarity of their features like Gebhard had noticed it instantly when he had seen Severus. Marcus remembered Gebhard's surprise and the words he had uttered, and he was sure that the innkeeper had drawn the same conclusions like he had done it himself after seeing the young Chat.

“Yes, I am Marcus Retus, the military leader of Mogontiacum, Laetus Benignus. And I call you by this name because it is your name – your Roman name, that is. I believe you that you haven't been called by it for a rather long time, more than twenty-two years to be precise,” he replied almost nonchalantly, even though the urge to tell the other man that his twin was fighting for his life only a few meters away from him almost choked him. But he needed to make sure that Severus' brother hadn't changed too much during his years as a member of the Chatti, and that he still cared about the Roman part of his family and his roots. “Your Teuton name is Lars, isn't it?” he added, pulling a visible flinch from the young chief.

“Yes, it is.” The Chat considered him, pressing his lips to a thin line. Benno standing beside him stepped closer, eyeing Marcus with newly awakened mistrust. “Why are you asking all of these questions, Roman?” he snarled in a dangerously low voice. “My chief's name and his past is none of your business!”

Marcus crossed his arms before his chest, his eyes never leaving Laetus Benignus' – Lars' face. “Yes it is, Chat. More than your business, actually.”

“And this should be the case why?” Lars inquired, his own voice as impassive as his features, but he had balled his hands into tight fists.

“Because your brother Severus Benignus – Sven – is lying in your innkeeper's bed fighting for his life because another Teuton shot him in his back. He is one of my best centurions, a proud and brave soldier who never did what you Teutons prefer to do on a regular basis – attacking whom you consider your enemy cowardly from an ambush and shooting good men in their backs without them getting any chance to defend themselves!” Marcus growled, a sudden and very strong wave of hot fury coursing through him.

The young Roman legatus suddenly was sick and tired of being the level-headed and reasonable man he normally was, everything finally becoming too much. He was tired of finding understanding and excuses for those who killed his own people – Roman legionaries he was responsible for and cared about - without any chance for a fair fight, and he was tired of the constant mistrust and hate he and his men didn't deserve only the slightest. “He told me about you when we sat together during our night watches, and his voice was filled with longing and love whenever he spoke out loud your name, but maybe you never deserved his loyalty, longing and love, forgetting your Roman father's roots and the love your father and your brother still felt for you and your Teuton mother after she had ran away from them, taking you with her to live with her own people instead?”

Lars' face paled, and he swallowed, audibly. “Sven – Severus - is here? He really is?” he whispered, hoarsely, and he sounded that wistfully that Marcus almost regretted his harsh speech, but only almost. Laetus Benignus deserved to suffer as much as his dear friend had suffered for the past twenty-two years, always feeling as if he had been ripped in two halves, losing not only his mother and his brother, but also the one being who had completed him like only an identical twin could do. He had told Marcus about the strong and unbreakable bond between them, formed in their mother's womb before they had even been born and that he could still feel his twin pulling at this bond sometimes, the only sign that his sibling was still alive and somewhere out there, waiting for him to come to him.

“Yes, he is,” he said, tersely. “He's severely wounded and we don't know if he will survive. It could be helpful for him to hear your voice and feel your touch, though. You'll find him in Gebhard's inn, he offered us his own room for your brother without knowing who he actually is at the beginning.”

Lars swallowed again, fear, worry and love flickering over his chiseled features. Then, he turned around to Benno. “You'll have to see to my duties for a while, my friend. My brother needs me more than my people need me at the moment. Marcus and his men are our most welcomed guests and I expect them to be treated this way, understood, Benno?”

His first warrior frowned, but nodded his head. “Of course, Lars. Everything will be as you said, I will see to that personally, you don't have to worry about anything. Just go to your brother, you're right, he needs you now.” The brown-haired Chat didn't mention the two prisoners, sensing that Lars' only concern was to see his long missed brother right now. He looked at Marcus who gave him a silent nod. “Hakon was very helpful, I told his guards to get him enough water and food. He won't go anywhere and he is safe where he is at the moment.” With these words, he followed Lars who was already heading towards the inn. The chief of the Chatti was obviously blind to anything else than his brother waiting for him to come to him and tell him that he had never forgotten the one being closest to him. The one he had been inseparable to before his mother had made sure that there was more than only a huge mountain chain and an ocean separating them for years until one single coincidence had brought them together again.

Marcus wasn't so sure whether it had really been only a coincidence or maybe some kind of fate the Gods had chosen for them, and he could only hope that this reunion didn't come too late for the one twin lying unconscious in the bed of a stranger, heavily injured and closer to death than to life.

 

\---------------------------------------------

 

“That's all we can do for him at the moment,” Rufus said when he fixed the bandage with Erik's help, “now, we have to wait and pray to each Roman, Celtic and Teuton God that Severus will be strong enough and survive.”

Erik could hear the held back tears in the red-haired Celt's voice, and he gently laid his hand upon his shoulder. He hadn't known the brave centurion as long as Rufus, but he felt close to tears himself, even more because Severus had been shot in his back by a similar attack like the one he had tried to kill his beloved Marcus with. Yes, Marcus had been only his hated Roman enemy back then, but having been on the receiving end of such a coward attack had opened his eyes for what he had done even more, and he felt coldness rendering him immobile by the mere thought of Severus dying because of this attack caused by another Teutons. Nemeters, but Teutons, nonetheless.

“Are the people living here Mattiacer, Erik?” Rufus' question pulled him out of his musings, and he turned his head to look at the older man who had washed his hands in the bowl with now red water Gebhard had brought them.

He did the same, shaking his head. “No, they aren't Mattiacer, I would know it if they were. They have to be the Chatti my father allowed to settle here about ten years ago. I wasn't a part of the negotiations, of course, because I was too young, but my father told me about them after the negotiations.”

Rufus frowned. “They are far away from their homeland, then. Why did they come here, do you know that?” He obviously needed a distraction from his worries, and the young Teuton prince understood that better than he would have liked to.

The Celt looked expectantly at him and Erik chewed on his lips as he tried to remember what his father had told him about the Chatti. Their tribes were rather closely related, the Mattiacers actually having once been a part of the Chatti before separating from them. “I'm not sure, but Degenhard, their chief, probably had to flee because the Chatti conspired with Arminius, the Cherusker. A lot of Chatti joined his legion and fought with him in the Teutoburger Forest, and those who didn't want to fight against Varus had to leave their homeland because the other Chatti considered them as traitors and enemies. Degenhard and his people might have been some of them and came here because they hoped that us Mattiacer would offer them a new home and relative peace and safety.”

Rufus smiled at him. “Their hopes obviously hadn't been in vain, young prince. Your father is a wise and kind leader of his people.”

Erik smiled back. “Yes, he is, Rufus.” A small sound coming from the bed made both of them turn their heads to Severus lying on his front in Gebhard's bed. The blond centurion hadn't woken up, but his lips moved and Erik bent down to listen to what the injured man was mumbling in his coma.

“Lae...s,” was all he could hear, and he frowned, looking at the Celt for help. “He's saying something, but I'm not sure what it is. It sounded like 'Laes'?”

Rufus swallowed, and Erik could see how his expression became regretful. “He's probably calling for his twin. Severus has – or has had a brother, an identical twin. His name was Laetus, respectively Lars, the Teuton name his mother had given him. You might have suspected it, Severus is only halfway Roman, his mother was a Teuton princess his father Horatius Benignus fell in love with. They had two sons, twins, Severus or Sven how his mother always called him, and Laetus – Lars. When they were about five years old, she left her husband and her son Severus to go back to Germania, and she took Lars, the other twin, with her because she was homesick and couldn't live in Rome any longer. Father and son were heartbroken, and Horatius wanted to follow her and search for her, but he didn't get the emperor's permission to do it himself, so he had to send others to search for her. They didn't succeed, and when he finally got the opportunity to search for his wife and his son himself in the aftermath of the battle in the Teutoburger Forest, he couldn't find them. I don't have to tell you how hard it is to search for someone in your beautiful home country, Erik, and the hate, mistrust and the deep wounds this horrible battle had left on both sides made it even harder. Severus has told my Master about his brother oftentimes, and I've been a witness of their talks when I served them during dinner or when we traveled together. His brother is the reason why Severus wanted to come with Marcus when he became the leader of Mogontiacum. He'd never lost hope that one day, he would be reunited with his brother.”

Erik had listened silently to Rufus' story, watching Severus' snow-white face and gently stroking his cold forehead. “So he is searching for his sibling like I am,” he mused, his throat clenching. Severus had surely wanted to join their mission because he knew how it felt like to lose a beloved sibling, and now, he would maybe never get the chance to find his own brother because a coward had shot him in his back.

He bent down to brush one blond strand out of his face. “You have to fight, Severus – Sven! You have to fight and live. I swear to you that I won't rest until we'll have found your brother after rescuing my sister, no matter what I'll have to do to make that happen. I will come with you like you have been willing to come with me, and I will help you to find your brother, I promise you,” he said, his voice husky with his emotions.

“Your promise honors you, Mattiacer, but this won't be necessary any longer, because his brother is already here!” an unknown voice came from the door, and when Erik looked up, a young man looking exactly like Severus strode into the room, kneeling down beside Severus' bed and stroking his face with rapt devotion as he kissed his forehead. “I'm here, my beloved brother, I'm here with you and I won't let you die, now that I'm finally with you again. I will stay by your side and fight for your life, and you will live because there is so much I need to tell you after those long years without you by my side. Do you hear me, Sven? You'll have to survive because I won't stand losing you for a second time, not after I've finally found you again!”


	39. Waiting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lars has hurried to see his brother Severus lying injured in Gebhard's bed, and Marcus, Erik and Rufus are with them. Jonas, Malte, Julius and Patricius on the other hand have to wait in the taproom, and this is what they are doing now: waiting for good news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am actually working on another fic, but this chapter wanted to be written in between. I am mean, I know, letting you wait for Severus' waking up and his reunion with Lars for a while longer, but there is something none of you mentioned so far: in chapter 24, posted a long time before one of my most passionate readers challenged me to let Lars enter the stage, Marcus chose Severus to guard Erik while he talked with Malte, telling him that Severus isn't able to speak and understand the Teuton language. I mused a rather long time about explaining this without having to rewrite chapter 24, and I hope that the explanation given in this chapter will be believable, because I don't like such inadequacies in my stories.  
> Apart from that, I wanted to write another chapter with Patricius, Julius and their defiant Teutons, and this was a good opportunity to do so.
> 
> Enjoy the new chapter, my dear readers, and please leave something for me. Your feedback, kudos and comments, are us writers' food and water. No one can survive without nourishment, and it is the same with our stories: without being fed, they will slowly die of starvation, so please drop by for a short moment and tell me what you think!

Jonas leaned back on his seat in the large taproom of Gebhard's inn with a suppressed groan, rolling his shoulders in the weak attempt to ease the pain, the long hours of riding and the happenings of the last days taking their toll on him. He tried to find a comfortable position because he wasn't as used to sitting on benches as much as he wasn't used to riding all day long. Teutons normally sat on the floor of their houses, but the ones living as closely to the Roman frontier as the Mattiacers or these Chatti did had accustomed themselves to some Roman habits, at least when it came to some of the furniture, and it was understandable that innkeepers like Gebhard or Flavius wanted not only their Teuton guests to feel comfortable during their stay, but also their Roman guests. Jonas would have preferred to sit down on the floor with crossed legs like he usually sat, but he resisted the urge and leaned forward to rest his forearms on the wooden table instead.

Patricius, who slouched on the bench beside him, gifted him with a small smile. It couldn't really cover the concern visible in his blue eyes, but at least, it was a honest smile and more than the tall centurion had shown him within the last hours. “You could sit in my lap again, Jonas. I'm sure you would be much more comfortable there,” he suggested, pulling a snort from his shorter companion.

“Certainly more comfortable, but definitely bereft of my dignity,” he answered, his eyes wandering to the closed door leading to Gebhard's bedroom for the umpteenth time. An unknown Chat had disappeared behind it a rather long time ago, followed by Marcus with a grim expression fixed on his features, and even though Jonas had only been able to catch a glimpse of the Chat's face, the familiarity with the centurion lying injured in the innkeeper's bed hadn't been lost on him.

The blond Roman looked disappointed, but he didn't try to persuade Jonas further. Instead, he waved at Malte and Julius just entering the inn to join them. “Who is this Chat looking like Severus?” was Malte's first question when he slumped down on the bench opposite his friend with Julius following his example and wrapping his arm around Malte's shoulders. The tall Mattiacer eyed him from the side, but he didn't shrug his arm off, which of course encouraged Patricius instantly to do the same with Jonas.

“It's most likely their chief who just came back,” the dark-haired optio said in an impassive voice, but neither Malte nor Jonas missed the look he exchanged with his superior, and Malte's voice was clearly impatient as he gave 'his' Roman a rather forceful dig in his ribs. “Ouch!” Julius complained, letting go of Malte and moving to the side until he was out of reach. “Why are you hitting me?”

“Don't try to fool me, Roman!” Malte growled, “you know quite well what I've meant!” Jonas could understand Malte's anger, because he felt as confused about the Chat looking exactly like Severus as his friend felt. He wished that Erik or Marcus would join them to explain what was going on, but it wasn't likely that the Roman legatus would leave his injured subordinate and close friend alone with an unknown Teuton.

Patricius at his side sighed. “I think that he is Severus brother, his identical twin to be precise.”

Jonas had suspected something like that, yet, it took him by surprise when he heard the centurion he had come to consider a friend and probably even more saying it out loud. “Severus has an identical twin who is a Chat?” he made sure, glad that his voice didn't tremble but sounded firm and only slightly upset.

Patricius sighed again, hesitantly pulling his arm away to avoid being hit like his friend Julius had been. Jonas scowled at him. “I won't beat you, don't worry, Roman. But, you'd better come up with a good explanation now. I've actually thought that we are one team and that we are equals, at least after this coward attack that was directed at Erik, Malte and me as much as it was directed at you Romans. Now, I'm not so sure about that any longer. How many secrets are you still keeping from us?”

Julius blushed by Jonas' words, but Patricius only looked sad. “No other secrets, Jonas, I promise. Severus being halfway Teuton and having an identical twin is something we all tend to forget most of the times, except for Marcus, I think. Severus hasn't talked about his brother Laetus for a rather long time, and none of us thought that we would find him on this mission. It might be a huge coincidence or maybe fate, who knows, but it wasn't really likely. Yes, Severus wanted to go on this mission at all cost, but surely more because he knew how Erik feels about his missing sister and not because he truly expected to find Laetus on our way to Augusta Treverorum.”

He went silent, sipping from the cervisia Gebhard had brought them before he had left them to see to his duties and the injured Nemeter.

Malte wasn't as satisfied with Patricius' explanation as Jonas felt, though. “Then, Marcus lied to Erik when he assured him that Severus isn't able to understand our language!” he snapped, obviously feeling betrayed and hurt. Jonas hadn't been with them when Malte and Erik had talked during Albin's negotiation with Marcus, but Erik and Malte had told him that Marcus had allowed them to talk privately, and that he had chosen Roman guards not understanding the Teuton tongue.

Now, it was Jonas' turn to move away from 'his' Roman, because learning about Marcus having lied to Erik and Malte in such an important matter hurt him as much as it hurt his friend and he crossed his arms before his chest, regarding the blond centurion with a frown. “Is that true, Patricius?”

Patricius shook his head, and his blue eyes looked deadly serious as he answered Malte's accusation. “No, Marcus hasn't lied to Erik and you, Malte. Severus indeed doesn't speak and understand your language – his second mother tongue. He and Laetus have been separated by their Teuton mother when they had been very young, only five years old, and Severus had a severe breakdown after his beloved mother and brother had disappeared without any word. He suffered from a high fever and was unconscious for three days. When he woke up, he still remembered his brother and his mother, but he had lost the ability to speak or understand the Teuton language just as if one part of his brain would block it. The only language he could speak after that was Latin, and this stayed until today, even though Marcus did his best to teach Severus your tongue and bring back his ability to speak Teuton again as much as Severus' father did after his breakdown at first. But, each time Severus tried to learn his lost mother tongue again, he became sick and dizzy and had to stop his attempts, instantly. The only Teuton words he remembered were his own Teuton name, Sven, and Laetus' Teuton name, Lars, but he refused to use them and always called his brother by his Roman name when he talked about him.”

Jonas could see that Patricius had told them the truth and so did Malte, looking touched and sad by Severus' heartbreaking story. “I'm sorry, this explains everything, of course,” Malte finally spoke up, gazing at Julius who played with the cords of his bag. The young optio stared unseeing at the wooden table, and Malte glided sideways until he could wrap his own arm around his shoulders. Julius chewed on his lip and didn't answer, but after a couple of seconds, he accepted the comfort Malte offered to him and leaned against his frame.

“Let's hope that Laetus won't have come too late and that his presence might help Severus to fight and survive,” he said, his voice raw with emotions.

Jonas could only agree to that statement, and he had to admit that knowing about Severus being halfway Teuton and Lars being halfway Roman changed his way of thinking about Romans and his own people, a lot. Of course, he had known that marriages between Romans and Teutons existed before Erik had fallen in love with Marcus, but somehow, he had thought that the Roman side would always win, that the Teuton men or women had to give up everything to be with their Roman wives or husbands, and that children coming from such families could never be 'true' Teutons. Jonas had never met Lars, the new chief of the Chatti, beforehand, but Albin had talked about Lars' father – stepfather – oftentimes, describing him as a very proud man with strict views. Yet, Degenhard had accepted Lars as his own son and raised him as a Teuton, and his stepson had become the chief of his tribe after Degenhard's death, obviously without anyone caring about his Roman inheritance. Severus on the other hand had become a Roman centurion without anyone bothering that he was partly Teuton, either. Flavius, the Roman inkeeper of the other hamlet had chosen a simple life among Teutons over the luxury life he could have had as a Roman, and Jonas felt humble and subdued, angry with himself about his former stupid and arrogant behavior towards Marcus and his men at the beginning of their journey.

Marcus had been willing to forgive Erik his attack and even offered him his heart and Patricius had done the same with him although Jonas had only snapped at him and accused him of having neglected his duties for his own pleasure, and Jonas suddenly felt bad and disgusted by himself, because he had judged Marcus and Patricius without really knowing them, considering himself better than them just because of his origin.

“Don't do that, Jonas.” The blond Roman's voice beside him startled him, and when he looked up, he found Patricius smiling at him. “Don't do what?” he asked after clearing his throat because of the huge lump that had formed in it.

“Don't blame yourself, Jonas. Your reservations have been understandable, and no one blames you or Malte for your mistrust. It is neither your fault that Severus has lost his brother, nor that he has been shot and injured by those renegades. All we can do is hoping and praying to our Gods that he will survive and that his brother will help us, and blaming ourselves will only weaken our strength and will to do everything to bring Lioba back.” The older one reached out with his hand to stroke over Jonas' stubbly cheek, and Jonas managed a brief but honest smile and nestled against his side. He still didn't want to sit in his lap, but leaning against him like Julius did with Malte wouldn't diminish his dignity, and Jonas really needed some comfort.

“You're right with that, Patricius,” Malte said thoughtfully, his gaze fixed on the closed door to Gebhard's bedroom. “If only Marcus or Erik would come to us and tell us how bad it actually is,” he murmured, and Jonas nodded his head. “Yes, I wished that, too. This waiting is killing me.”

Patricius took the mug with cervisia Jonas had ignored so far. “It is killing everyone but unfortunately, waiting is all we can do at the moment. No news at all are good news, I guess.”

“Severus is strong, he will make it!” Julius added to Patricius' statement, almost snarling, but Jonas could see that he only tried to convince himself with that. The young Mattiacer could only guess how Patricius and Julius must feel about Severus' injury, surely much worse than he himself already felt about it.

Gebhard opening the front door to his inn made all the four of them look up, and when he came to their table, sitting down on the bench at Malte's other side, four pairs of eyes burned holes in his face.

“The wounded Nemeter will survive. He is weak and not in the state to be questioned, but he is awake and Benno, Lars' right hand man decided to let Hakon stay with his brother,” the Chat informed them, and Jonas saw the surprise in the two Romans' faces. “They are brothers?”

Gebhard nodded his head. “That's all I know, sorry. I wasn't there when your legatus questioned the other one, but Anselm could at least tell us his name and that Hakon, the other captive, is his brother. Lars will have to decide what is to happen with them, but this has to wait. The only important thing at the moment is his twin Sven.”

“You know that Severus is your chief's brother?” Julius asked tiredly, his knuckles clenched around his mug white with the effort to hold it without spilling the beverage as he sipped from it.

Gebhard nodded, grabbing another mug and the carafe with the strong brew. “I am one of the few Degenhard and Lars talked to about Lars' brother, yes. I realized who your centurion must be when I saw his face for the first time, but I couldn't tell you that without betraying my chief's trust until his return, sorry. You will be our welcomed guests as long as you wish to stay, not only because of Sven, but also because some of you are Mattaicers belonging to Albin's people. Albin welcomed us and offered us a new home when we came here years ago, and we haven't forgotten that. So if there is anything you'll need, just ask and we'll do our best to give it to you.”

Patricius smiled at the Chat. “Thank you, Gebhard, that means a lot to us. All we wish for at the moment is that Severus will finally wake up, though.”

“Yes, I know, Roman. Maybe, Lars will be able to let this happen with his presence. He told me about the bond he still shared with his twin even when they had been separated, maybe, this bond will be strong enough to wake Severus up.”

Jonas hoped the same and for a while, they all sat there, sipping from the cervisia, each of them deeply lost in their thoughts. Jonas felt tired down to his bones, and he closed his eyes, leaning heavily against Patricius' strong frame who wrapped his arm firmly around him, pulling him close to his chest.

The quiet sound of a door opening and closing again startled Jonas awake from his light slumber, and when he had blinked against the dizziness and exhaustion to clear his mind, he could see Erik stalking over to their table. His friend's face was pale and his movements resembled the movements of an old man due to his own exhaustion, but there was a smile on his face.

A smile that could only announce good news, couldn't it?

Erik opened his mouth when he had reached the bench, dropping down on it next to him, and his words confirmed Jonas' hope that the horrible waiting was over.

“Severus has woken up. He's weak and surely not out of the woods by now, but the chances that he will survive and fully recover are not as small as they have been. Marcus asked me to bring you the good news.”

His friend leaned against Jonas' side and closed his eyes after his short speech, silent tears rolling over his face. Jonas pulled away from Patricius with an apologetic smile to embrace his childhood friend and let him cry on his shoulder, his only thought that Severus or Sven how his Teuton name was, would survive. Erik might have said that it wasn't certain by now, but deep in his heart, the young Mattiacer knew that this was the truth.

Severus had woken up and he would survive, Jonas was sure about that.


	40. A Touching Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus finally wakes up from his coma, seeing his long-missed twin Lars sitting by his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My dear GoForGoals, knowing how much you love my brave Roman Marcus Retus and his friends, I took a break from my beloved king Richard to update this story for you. I hope you will like it. :-)
> 
> It is late and only briefly proof-read, I will do that tomorrow.

Marcus didn't know how much time had passed since he had entered the room where his friend Severus was still lying motionless on Gebhard's bed. The minutes seemed to stretch to hours and the hours to days, and the young Roman legatus had lost all tracks of time while he stood at the end of the bed with his arms folded before his chest and his inner turmoil hidden behind a stern mask.

The young centurion had woken up for a short moment, opening his eyes and uttering some strangled sounds, and Erik had left the room right after that to inform their companions anxiously waiting for news about his waking up, but Severus had lost consciousness again shortly after Erik had left the room. Marcus wasn't sure whether or not he had really seen or even recognized his long-missed brother, and he could only hope that he would stay awake for longer the next time and maybe even capable of talking to them.

Rufus had stayed with them, refusing to leave the centurion and crouching beside the bed at Severus' right side, while his twin-brother Lars had taken Erik's place next to Severus' left side. Marcus had let him claim the spot right next to Severus' head and shoulders and taken up position at the end of the bed instead. As much as he cared for his friend and as much as Severus liked him, but Lars or Laetus - how Severus had always called him by his Roman name – was the one human being who could help him the most in his state, and Marcus was fine with everything that would wake his centurion up and help him to heal.

Marcus averted his eyes from the blond Chat, whose face was so well-known and yet so strange in more than only one way, to gaze at Rufus instead. Severus had never told him about his feelings for the red-haired Celt, but Marcus had suspected that his underling felt more than only friendship for his personal slave, and he didn't know anyone who would be better to make Rufus get over his unreturned love for him than his centurion.

He cared deeply about Rufus, his faithful friend and companion through thick and thin, but he had never loved him the way he loved his sweet, defiant Teuton prince, and he wouldn't have minded it if Rufus had answered Severus' subtle courting and fallen for him. His dear and faithful friend had never even thought of merely looking at someone else before Erik had stumbled into their lives though, content with being Marcus' friend and the one seeing to his well-being, but Marcus could see that this had changed by the way the Celt's eyes were glued to Severus' short, blond hair. Hopefully, Rufus and Severus would come closer after the centurion's recovery, and Marcus would gladly let Rufus go and release him from his unfree state to find his happiness with Severus.

Marcus forced his thoughts back to the happenings in front of them, regarding his friend with worried eyes. They hadn't dared to turn the young centurion on his back after treating the wound in his shoulder-blade, and Severus still lay on his front with his head turned to his left side. Rufus couldn't see much of his face this way, but he kept his eyes on the young centurion as if he had become a statue made of stone, and only the brief blinking now and then betrayed that he was a living and breathing being and not a statue, at all. His deep-red hair shone in the flickering light of the candles they had enlightened to see what they were doing while removing the tip of the arrow and cleaning the wound, the astonishing color boosted by the paleness of the Celt's features.

Marcus could see the emotions Rufus held back only with effort under the stony mask, and he longed to reach out and console his friend. Yet, he stayed where he was, instinctively sensing that the older man didn't want that, not in front of Severus' unknown twin, the chief of the Chatti, at least.

The blond legatus huffed an inaudible sigh and focused on his still unconscious friend and his friend's brother once more, because Lars had started to sing now. He had murmured gentle words into Severus' ear for a rather long time, but it hadn't had the desired effect, and Lars obviously hoped that singing to his brother would change that. His warm voice filled the room and Marcus found himself holding his breath while he listened to the Teuton lullaby Lars sang with rapt devotion.

The chief of the Chatti had talked in Latin to his brother beforehand, Marcus hadn't understood the words but detected the language Lars had used, but the blond Chat had changed the language when he had started to sing. It must be one of the lullabies their mother must have sung to them when they had still been small boys, and this song finally seemed to have an effect, because Marcus could see how Severus' eyelids fluttered all of a sudden. It was only a brief and tiny movement, but he was sure that his eyes hadn't played tricks on him.

Maybe, it was the song and the memories of a happy childhood with his family still intact it evoked, perhaps it was the language Severus had lost years ago, maybe, it was simply his brother's voice the centurion had heard for a rather long time now despite his unconscious state, this was hard to tell. Maybe, it was the combination of all the three of these things, but whatever it was, Marcus felt utterly grateful for the change.

Lars had seen the soft flutter, as well, and he tenderly stroked over Severus' snow-white cheek as he started the next strophe of the sad and wistful and yet so beautiful song. Marcus understood and spoke the Teuton language fluently, but he didn't care about the words, only about the warmth and gentleness of Lars' voice and the love audible in every tune he sang for his twin-brother. He didn't need to look at Rufus to know that the Celt felt the same way as he did, he couldn't have seen Severus' movement, but he had surely noticed Lars' and his own reaction to it. The red-haired man tensed up and bent forward a little bit, and when the fingers of Severus' hand twitched a little bit, Rufus carefully took them in his own. It was only a small gesture, but full of love and care, and Marcus had to blink against the wetness in his eyes, knowing that he would never forget this day when two so different men united in their love for Severus fought for his life, each of them in their own unique way.

Lars kept singing and stroking his brother's cheek, but he smiled briefly at the Celt who had been the one making sure that Severus – Sven – would be able to hear his brother's voice again by stopping the bleeding and treating his horrible injury before it would be too late. Rufus smiled back before focusing on the unconscious twin again.

 _“Severus, my friend – Sven – please wake up! You must wake up!”_ Marcus' lips moved in a silent prayer, his words almost inaudible to not disturb Lars' singing. The Chat, who was halfway Roman like his brother was - but whose Teuton-inheritance overruled the Roman half to a large extent after all those years - started to sing the last stanza now, and when the last tune slowly faded, one inclined god Marcus had prayed to let the miracle happen, because the blond centurion suddenly opened his eyes and whispered:

“Laetus? My brother Laetus? Lars? Are you really here?”

 

\--------------------------------------------

 

“Sven! My brother Sven! You're awake, you're finally awake! I had feared that I would lose you for a second time!” The Chat's cry ended in a sob, and the tough leader of his tribe wasn't ashamed of the tears of joy, relief and sorrow that streamed over his face. Lars had used his mother tongue – actually their mother tongue - in his joy and confusion, and it was clear to see for Marcus by Severus' frown that he hadn't understood what his brother had said.

“What happened? Where am I? What are you doing here?” Severus croaked out, trying to lift his head from the pillow. “Ouch, my back!” he then gasped out, weakly, slumping down again, and Marcus hurried to his side and crouched down next to Lars. “Lie still, my friend. You have been shot in your right shoulder-blade and you're not allowed to move until we can be sure that the bleeding has really stopped.”

Severus' eyes moved forth and back between his superior and his twin, the one he had missed so deeply within the years that had passed since their mother had run away and taken his beloved brother with her. “Marcus, it is good to see your face and to know that you are unharmed. Do you know who the attackers are?” he finally managed to ask as the disciplined soldier he was, even though the question about his brother suddenly being there must actually be more important to him. The Roman legatus smiled gently at him, Severus had always been one of his bravest centurions, a soldier with all his heart and down to his bones, and he had expected Severus to ask him about the attack right after waking up. “Yes, we know who they are. I will tell you about the happenings when you feel strong enough to learn the truth. Your well-being and your recovery is the most important thing at the moment. This and your reunion with your brother Lars – Laetus, my friend.”

Severus stayed silent for a long moment, his eyelids dropping, and Marcus feared that he would lose consciousness again, but his friend forced his eyes open again, his gaze wandering back to his twin. “Why are you here, my brother?” he finally whispered, and Lars, who had listened quietly to Severus' and Marcus' short talk, swallowed and bent forward to kiss his temple.

“Your friend Marcus has brought you to our village after the attack, my dear brother. It was the closest settlement within their reach, and Gebhard, our innkeeper, offered his home to your fellows so they could see to your injury. When I came back from a short trip, Marcus called me by my Roman name and told me what had happened to you. I won't leave your side as long as you'll need me, Sven.”

Severus blinked. “It has been so long since someone has called me Sven,” he murmured. “Our nursemaid sometimes did that, but it always made me cry, and our father forbade her to do that.”

Lars smiled, sadly. “It was the same with me, Sven. Our mother didn't want to remind me of my Roman half, and she never called me Laetus again when we had reached the frontier to her homeland. Your superior was the first to call me Laetus within more than twenty years. But, we can talk about that later, you need to rest. Everything else can wait.”

Severus tried to nod, but when another wave of pain shot through him because of his movement, he laid his head down on the pillow again. “Where are the others? Are they fine? Where is Rufus?” his worries about his friends and the man he loved letting him forget the pain he felt for one moment.

“I am here, Severus, I'm right here by your right side, and I won't go anywhere, I promise you,” Rufus said, his voice hoarse with his emotion. “And don't worry about the others, no one was injured except for you. Erik was the one removing the tip of the arrow, and he helped me saving your life. Patricius, Julius and the others are fine, they will visit you when you have rested and feel better.”

Severus couldn't turn his head to look at him, but he squeezed Rufus' hand holding his. “Will you stay with me, Rufus?” he asked, his voice barely audible. “Of course, my friend. Nothing and no one will make me leave you, Severus.”

“Thank you, Rufus. I'm thirsty,” the blond centurion croaked out, “can I have some water, please?”

“Of course, brother.” Lars took the carafe standing beside the bowl with the bloody water Erik and Rufus had used to clean the wound and filled an earthen mug with the clear water of the carafe. “I will help you, my friend.” Marcus carefully lifted Severus' head from the pillow while Rufus supported his right shoulder. The blond centurion suppressed a groan and squeezed his eyes shut for one moment, but when Lars held the mug at his lips, he sipped from the water, gratefully.

“Thank you, it's enough.” Marcus lowered his friend down again, and Severus closed his eyes as his exhaustion overtook him and he slipped back into the velvet blackness of another unconsciousness. His breathing was even and much stronger, though, and Marcus was sure that it was more a healthful sleep this time and not a real coma.

Lars put the mug back on the floor beside the bed. “To sleep is the best thing he can do at the moment, it will help him to heal,” he said, musingly, but Marcus could hear the longing in his voice, the longing to talk to his beloved brother and learn more about the years they had been apart.

“You're right with that, Laetus,” he said, “You have to use Latin when you talk to him, Laetus. He lost his ability to understand and speak the Teuton language after he had lost you, maybe, it will come back now that you're reunited again, we will see. But in his weak state, it would strain him too much to try it, so please be patient." Lars nodded silently at that and Marcus contnued. "I understand how much you crave to talk to him, but you will have time for that when he wakes up again. He missed you as much as you've missed him, be sure about that.”

The young chief of the Chatti hung his head. “Most likely even more. He was the one who had been left without knowing what had happened to me and our mother. I at least knew that Sven and our father had been safe and sound in Rome before we'd left them.”

“It would have been much easier for you to find him than it was for him, Chat. Yet, Severus has never given up his attempts to find out where you could be and what had happened to you!” Rufus' words sounded as harsh as Marcus had hardly ever heard him speak, but he couldn't really mind the Celt's behavior, because he felt the same way about this.

Lars sighed, his fingers carding gently through Severus' tousled hair without really noticing it. “I understand why you think that, Rufus, but things are much more complicated. Before the horrible battle in the Teutoburger Forest, I've been too young to really know how to do that, and my tribe lived far away from here in the north. Our mother was sick for a very long time and I couldn't leave her alone. After the battle, we had to flee and search for a new home, and I couldn't leave my people. They are good people, they have accepted me as one of them without hesitation, and they needed me. It was hard for us at the beginning, the hate and the mistrust this battle has caused among Romans and a lot of Teuton tribes making it impossible to think of anything else than surviving and finding a place where we could live rather undisturbed. But, you're right, of course, I should have tried harder to find him, nevertheless, and I will never forgive myself that I didn't do that.”

Silence fell over the room after Lars' admission, and the blond legatus could see that Rufus felt ashamed about his outburst, staring down at Severus' blond hair and blinking against his tears.

“You are both right with what you've said, but this is neither the right time nor the right place to debate about it, my friend. You must be tired and hungry, and you need to eat and to rest a little bit,” Marcus said friendlily, sensing how exhausted and confused the red-haired Celt must feel. “Knowing that neither of you will leave him, I will see to you getting something to eat while you'll watch his sleep.” He knew that most Romans would have refused to even think of serving their personal slaves, but he had never been one of them. Rufus was his friend above everything else, and he had been the one saving his centurion's life together with Erik. Bringing him some food and maybe a cushion he could sit upon was a very small reward and thanks for what Rufus had done for all of them.

“Thank you, Marcus,” Rufus whispered, and Lars shot him a brief, grateful glance before looking at Severus' pale face again. “Thank you, Marcus Retus. My brother's recovery is the only thing truly mattering at the moment, but I promise you that me and my people will help you and support you as best as we can by whatever you wanted to do before these coward attack brought you here.”

“I know, Laetus Benignus. You might have become the chief of the Chatti and a true Chat yourself over the years, but the Roman you've once been is still hidden somewhere inside you, and I know that you still care about your origin and other Romans. You will take care of your twin-brother who is my highly valued friend together with Rufus, and I will take care of both of you while you're doing that.”

With these words, Marcus Retus rose to his feet with one single fluent move, crossing the room to keep his promise. When he reached the door, he turned his head to take one last look back, and what he saw made him smile.

Rufus had hesitantly reached out with his hand to stroke Severus' hair like Lars did, and when their fingers touched by accident, both men looked up and smiled cautiously at each other, entangling their fingers for one short moment, united in their love for the injured man sleeping between them.

Marcus watched them for a short moment before he turned around again and left the room, silently, but with new hope and deep gratitude warming his heart and every cell of his body.


	41. Comfort And Passion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus has woken up and talked with his brother, and Marcus and Erik can finally think of getting some rest and maybe find comfort in each other's arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My dear GoForGoals, you must have conspired with Marcus Retus, because he begged me to give him some Durmeus-moments with his beloved Teuton prince, and I really couldn't deny him his wish.  
> To make up for the long wait, it has more than 5000 words. I hope that this chapter is what you have longed for. :-)
> 
> My dear readers, please let me know if you're still with my beloved Marcus Retus and his defiant Teuton Erik, your kudos and comments would mean a lot of me. <333

Marcus rubbed his hurting eyes in a tired gesture as he sat down beside Erik, every single bone in his exhausted body screaming with protest as his backside met the hard wood of the bench. Erik eyed him with a bloodshot and hooded gaze, and Marcus forced his tight mouth into a tender smile.

The day had been straining to say the least, and the interrogation had worn him out more than he had thought, but his wonderful Teuton had surely had the worse part of the two of them, removing the arrow and treating Severus' wound must have cost him all of his strength.

“I am fine, only tired,” Marcus assured his young lover gently, and Erik reached out and stroked his cheek. “I can imagine, Marcus. Here, Gebhard has seen to you having a proper dinner before he left to prepare our sleeping places.” He pushed the plate filled with venison, cheese and bread in Marcus' direction, and the Roman legatus stared at it as if he had never seen food arranged on a plate for long seconds before he blinked and took the knife to serve himself. He didn't feel really hungry, but he knew that he had to eat, nevertheless. The meal was simple but tasty, and Marcus felt actually much better when he had eaten half of the portion. He accepted the mug with cervisia Patricius offered him, and he was grateful that his companions didn't bother him with questions about their friend's state until he was ready to tell them about Severus' second waking up.

“Julius, Malte, Jonas and I will take turns with the night watch,” the tall centurion informed him, “you and Erik need to rest, Marcus. You look both as if you couldn't keep yourself upright any longer, and even though we don't think that Laetus will betray us in any way, but we have to be careful and make sure that we won't get attacked for a second time, nonetheless.”

Marcus felt too tired to argue about that, and he knew that Patricius was right. It was too dangerous for them to become careless, and Lars' second Benno could surely do with two more pairs of attentive eyes during the night. “Thank you, Patricius. I have to admit that I would be grateful for some hours of undisturbed sleep.”

“Of course, you would, Marcus. You have done more than any of us over the past days, and above all of what you've done, you also have to carry the entire weight of responsibility on your shoulders. Julius and I have come to an understanding with Malte and Jonas,” Patricius stated, ruffling the thick mop of brown hair of the shortest Teuton. Jonas tried to scowl at him, but when the blond centurion grinned at him, his eyes sparkling with tender mischief, the defiant Teuton warrior only sighed theatrically and shook his head with a roll of his eyes. Erik laughed and leaned against Marcus' shoulder. “You two truly deserve each other,” he stated, and Patricius bowed before him with a contented expression. “Thank you, my prince. I am pleased to have your approval in this for me very important matter of heart. It might help me with conquering the seemingly impregnable bastion more easily.”

Jonas tried to look offended. “What are you dreaming of at night, Roman?” he snapped, blushing furiously when his cheeky words reminded him of his own special dream only two nights ago.

Julius and Malte barked a laugh while Patricius tilted his head to the side and pursed his lips. “You would really like to know that, wouldn't you, Teuton? I might be inclined to tell you more about my dreams when I'm snuggling close to you in our cozy bed of hay after our watch,” he drawled, boosting Jonas' redness with that. The younger one didn't know where to look at, but when he saw how Marcus' features relaxed into an almost carefree smile, he realized that Patricius had only teased him this way to distract his admired superior from his worries for a few minutes. He melted against his tall frame and smiled back at Marcus.

“We will keep our eyes open and inform you in case that something will happen,” he promised, and Marcus nodded his head gratefully. “Thank you, Jonas. Knowing that you will do the watch and wake us up if necessary will help Erik and me to get some rest.” He emptied his mug and cleared his throat. “Severus has woken up and talked to us, he was clear responsive, and he didn't hallucinate. He is weak and in great pain, but I do believe that the worst is over and that he will recover from this nasty wound. The presence of his twin Lars is what has woken him up in the end, and Lars and Rufus will stay with him as long as needed. I have brought them food and some cushions, but it will be a long and exhausting night for them. I am sure that Benno and Gebhard will provide their chief with what he needs, but I am not sure whether or not they will be considerate of Rufus, too. I would be grateful if you would see to him.”

Malte nodded almost grimly. “That goes without saying, legatus. He has saved a good man's life, the least we can do is taking care of him when he can't do that himself because of Severus.”

“Thank you, Malte. I know that there are a lot of people who would refuse to serve a slave.” Marcus wrapped his arm around Erik's shoulder in a tender gesture, who had fallen asleep leaned against him.

Jonas shrugged his shoulder. “Rufus is a tough warrior and a kindhearted man, and he offered me comfort when I needed it the most. I don't care about his official state, and I know that the others of our group feel the same way about him. We would defend him with our lives just like he would do it for us.”

His eyes darted to his friend Erik. “You should go to bed, Marcus, Gebhard mentioned that he would prepare your beds in the chief's house. Patricius, Malte, Julius and I have decided to stay with our horses rather than with the other Chatti. The straw and hay will warm us, and our mounts are too precious to risk anything.”

The Roman legatus stifled a yawn. “That's the best solution, I guess. That way, you will also notice possible attackers soon enough. Very well, let's see to putting this sleeping beauty here to bed. ” He had just finished his sentence, when the door opened and Benno, Lars' second in command, entered the large taproom. The Chat wore the impassive mask on his face again, but his expression softened when he saw Erik sleeping on Marcus' shoulder. He knew that Erik and Rufus had been the one saving the life of his chief's brother, and Severus being Lars' twin made him being half a Chat as well, so Benno cared probably more about Severus' well-being than he wanted to admit.

“My chief wants you to stay in his house as his personal guests, Marcus,” he said, coming to the table. “Shall I help you with Albin's son? You look exhausted.”

Marcus turned his head and brushed with his knuckles over Erik's sleep-warm cheek. “Erik, wake up, we can stay at Lars' place for the night. You will be more comfortable in a real bed,” he murmured against his temple, not caring what Benno might think about their closeness.

The young Teuton prince stirred in his arm, blinking his tired eyes open. “A bed sounds heavenly to me,” he admitted, smiling at the blond legatus with a wink of his eye. “But as long as you will be my pillow, I will be fine everywhere, even if having to sleep on hard ground.”

Marcus pulled him close, touched and happy, because he felt the same way. As long as Erik was by his side, he would be fine, that much he knew for sure.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------

 

Erik looked around in Lars' large long-house, and the sudden wave of homesickness surging through him took him by surprise, because he had pushed the thought of his home in the farthest corner of his mind ever since he had admitted to himself that he had fallen in love with his wonderful Roman. The young Teuton hadn't realized how much he missed his father's house and its familiar surroundings until he had entered Lars' house, which was almost a perfect copy of the house he had grown up in.

Somehow, Erik had thought that Lars would like to have more Roman standards and comfort in his home, unable to deny his Roman origin, but the chief of the Chatti lived the life of a true Teuton only, and not the life of a Roman. The inn where they had stayed two nights ago and Gebhard's inn were Teuton long-houses, as well, but Erik hadn't felt the same wistfulness and homesickness there as he felt now, being alone with his thoughts for the first time on this fateful day.

Benno had brought them here, telling them that his chief wanted them to use his house as if it were theirs, and that they would be undisturbed and alone there. Hakon had been brought to his brother in Benno's own house a few hours ago, and Lars would stay with his brother for the time being.

Erik was actually glad that Marcus and he had a place on their own, where they could talk openly and didn't need to think about each look and each word to not get into trouble, but his overwhelming emotions made it hard for him to focus on anything else than his longing for his own home and his family.

He had relieved himself in the small privy belonging to the house and rushed through a quick bedtime routine afterwards, and he was now waiting for Marcus coming back to him after doing the same, sitting down on the bed where normally the chief of the Chatti slept in.

Lars as the chief of his tribe had his own separated bedroom in his house like Erik's own father had, and it was clear to see that he lived alone here without a wife and a family. Teutons normally had only one large room where they lived, cooked and slept, but Erik was grateful that someone entering the house wouldn't see him lying snuggled against Marcus right away. There was another door hiding the sleeper from prying eyes, and Erik's sadness was replaced by the soft tingling of anticipation by the thought of spending the night with Marcus in this bed, alone, undisturbed and without any watchers. It had been far too long, and even though he had enjoyed their special night with Rufus, but having Marcus all for himself was so much better and exactly what he needed right now. Marcus surely needed his comfort and love as much as Erik needed him, and he sighed, wistfully, hoping that his beloved Roman would finally come back to the house and take him in his arms.

“Why are you looking so sad, Erik? I am sure that Severus will recover, and we will find your sister, I promise you that.” Marcus must have entered the small chamber without him noticing it, because the impressive blond Roman stood in the doorway in a simple white tunic, his arms folded before his chest. The legatus reminded him of one of the Roman gods he had heard about, Mars, the god of war as he stood there with slightly spread legs, the golden bracelets he normally wore accentuating his well-toned upper arms. Considering that Marcus' name came from this god, the comparison was surely appropriate.

“Only a short bout of homesickness,” he admitted, peering up at the older man from where he sat on the surprisingly large bed. A strange emotion flickered over Marcus' face and he closed the door and crossed the distance between them to sit down beside his beloved Teuton. He reached out and stroked his cheek. “That was to be expected. I am sorry that I have kept you from your home for so long. I am aware of how much you must miss it.”

Erik pressed his face into the touch of Marcus' calloused palm, rubbing his stubbly skin against it. “It wasn't you keeping me away from my home, Marcus. I am the only one responsible for all the grief and sorrow I've caused, and I am well aware of that. It's only that this house looks exactly like me father's house and...” his voice trailed off, and Marcus smiled at him and kissed him on his soft lips.

“I know, you don't have to explain yourself, my sweet Erik. What about going to bed? I'm hurting all over and I'm so tired that I'm feeling dizzy.” It was clear that Marcus was actually talking about going to bed for sleeping and not for sharing other, much more pleasant actions. He looked tired and the lines around his eyes were a clear sign that he must be indeed in pain. “I could massage you with the oil you were so foresighted to put in our bag,” he suggested. Marcus had packed three small vials with oil to have something he could massage the kinks out of Erik's muscles after the long days in the saddle, and he was more than willing to return the favor and ease the pain in Marcus' with tension cramping muscles.

“Are you sure, Erik? You look as tired as I am feeling.” Marcus couldn't hide his delight by the mere thought of his Teuton massaging his back though, and the short nap leaned against Marcus' shoulder had revived some of Erik's spirits.

“Yes, I am sure. Undress and lie on your front, my beloved Roman, I really want to do that for you.” Erik undressed his own tunic and trousers until he wore nothing more than his rather small loincloth anymore, and after one more second, Marcus did the same, lying down on the bed on his front like Erik had told him to do. Erik took the vial with the oil and straddled the Roman, sitting on his thighs. He warmed the oil between his palms so Marcus would tense up more because of a sudden coldness dropping on his back and started to knead his shoulders.

The Roman legatus moaned with pure bliss, his muscles shifting and relaxing under Erik's firm hands. “Ouch, be careful! That hurts!” he complained when Erik kneaded one particularly hard knot, and Erik chuckled and shook his head. “Where has my proud Roman gone? Enduring each terrible torture in stoic silence but complaining about a massage that is only meant to relax him.” he chided him, and Marcus shot him an offended look over his shoulder. “He must have fallen from his horse somewhere along the way, scared away by cheeky Teutons!” he groused, and Erik snickered again.

“I don't think that my proud Roman would ever leave his cheeky Teuton alone, he loves him far too much to do that,” he said, playfully slapping Marcus' only partly with linen covered right butt cheek. “And don't crane you neck like that, it only serves to make you tense up even more.”

“I am so at your mercy at the moment, am I not?” Marcus sighed but obeyed, burying his face in his folded arms on the pillow again.

“Yes, you are, totally and without any chance that I will release you any time soon.” Erik's voice had changed from teasing to being raw with tenderness and love, and Marcus relaxed and let him massage his back without any more objection. “I love you, Erik, you know that, right?” he only asked, his because of his arms muffled voice as husky as Erik's had been.

“Yes, I know, Marcus. I love you, too,” Erik replied, alternating between kneading and stroking the well-shaped back of his lover. His throat went dry as he watched his hands move over the pale and smooth, fragrant skin of the man who had captured his heart right at first sight as he now knew.

His body reacted to their closeness and his own longing for the fascinating Roman overwhelmed him once more, as Marcus showed him his trust by lying trapped and defenseless underneath him that wonderfully. Marcus' at the beginning pained groans had changed into moans of relief and delight, to soft purrs vibrating under Erik's skilled fingers, and the tiny movements of his hips under Erik's legs proved to the young Teuton that his proud Roman enjoyed what he was doing to him very much.

Yet, they were both tired and needed to sleep, and Erik was really determined to not seduce Marcus into something else than actually massaging him until the blond Roman suddenly started to shift and writhe beneath him. He had tensed up again, but for a completely different reason, and Marcus' next words only confirmed Erik's hopes that he was well enough for some passionate lovemaking, because he arched his back into his touched and begged in a harsh voice: “Erik, my sweet Teuton, please, I want you to take me! I need to feel you inside me!”

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------

 

Erik's tender massage had done Marcus a world of good, and the Roman legatus had relaxed and enjoyed his lover's rapturous ministration more than he had thought it possible after the happenings of one of the most horrible days of his life so far.

But they were alone for the first time within days, and Marcus' pleasure about the pain in his strained muscles finally subsiding had turned into something more heated and passionate. It wasn't oftentimes that he wanted to be taken, to let another being enter him and just let go, but he really needed it tonight. Judging by the hardness that had poked against his butt every time Erik had shifted his weight or bent down during his massage, his sweet Teuton didn't need to be persuaded to perform more ardent actions too much, either.

His beautiful prince stopped in his doing, but he left his warm hands resting on Marcus' shoulder blades, a solid and comforting weight that grounded the Roman and helped him against the dizziness of exhaustion that had clouded his brain ever since he had stood at the end of Severus' bed, praying for a miracle to happen that would wake his dear friend up.

“Are you sure, Marcus? I don't want to hurt you,” Erik now said, bending down to kiss him on his tousled blond hair.

“Yes, I am sure, Erik. I need you to take me, please...” Marcus didn't move, he only pressed back into the tender embrace, and Erik's lips ghosting over his temple sent shivers along his spine. “You don't have to beg, my beautiful Roman. Just tell me how you need it. Do you want to turn around?”

Marcus moved his head from the left to the right side in a small shaking. “No, just like that, I'm fine this way,” he murmured, and Erik sat upright again after one last tender kiss. “Then, you will have me this way,” he promised, gently pulling at Marcus' loincloth to reveal his private parts hidden under the white linen. Marcus wriggled his hips to help him, and Erik pulled the garment over his legs and threw it to the side before undressing his own underwear.

“Spread your legs for me, love!” Erik gently ordered in a husky voice, and Marcus did as told, eagerly, another shiver of anticipation running down his back. He was hard and aching for his Teuton prince for quite some time by now, Erik's hands on his body never failed to turn him into a quivering mess of pure and raw desire and want, no matter how tired he might be.

He moaned with the sensation of one slick and curious finger pushing into his secret entrance, gently massaging the tight ring muscle to loosen it up for the much longer and thicker spear that would hopefully impale him any time soon. Marcus resisted the urge to rub his throbbing cock against the mattress to find some release, he wanted this to last as long as possible, and he raised his hips a little bit instead to give his lover better access.

Erik was still a beginner when it came to topping, having done it only once so far, but he was an eager student, and also naturally talented as it seemed, because he found the right pace and pressure with ease, his finger sending hot jolts of pleasure through Marcus' after the massage relaxed body. He was still straddling him, his hard manhood smearing tiny drops of milky pleasure over the backside of Marcus' bare thighs as he prepared him.

“You can use two fingers now!” Marcus demanded, Erik's preparation driving him to the very edge of his self-control far too quickly. His sweet Teuton obeyed, pulling his finger out just to push two digits into him again. He bent down and started to nibble at Marcus' earlobe, his breath tickling the oversensitive skin on the Roman's throat. “I want you so much, Marcus, I want to sheathe my weapon deep inside your tight heat and possess you until you don't know your own name any longer!” Erik's voice was full of passion and hoarse possessiveness, and Marcus shuddered heavily by his words and moaned loudly. “I want you to do that, too, my passionate Teuton. I want you to take me hard and make me scream!” he confessed, his voice hardly recognizable because of his need.

The younger man's rock-hard cock twitched against his butt cheek, and Marcus had to bite his lip to keep his self-control. His own arousal had left a big wet spot on the sheet underneath him, and he couldn't keep his hips still any longer, moving them in time to Erik's thrusts. His aching dick rubbed against the mattress, and Marcus feared that he would come just from that, especially when Erik started to brush over his pulsing sweet spot again and again.

“I'm ready for you, my prince! Just take me!” he almost sobbed, digging his nails into his palms. The sharp sting distracted him a little bit from the ache in his groin, and he spread his legs as wide as he could without cramping.

“You're still so tight!” Erik moaned, but he pulled his fingers out, unable to resist his ardent lover's blatant invitation to have his way with him. “I want to be tight for you, love.” Marcus whispered, turning his head to look at the Teuton. “Please, I need it, I need to...” his voice cracked at the end, and he blinked, fearing that he would embarrass himself by starting to cry like a baby if he said more.

Erik covered him with his hot body, embracing him tightly and kissing his salty lips. Marcus' neck hurt from the uncomfortable angle, but he didn't care, because Erik's tongue pushing into his mouth like his hard member now pushed into his secret core felt like heaven on earth and better than Marcus remembered. He relaxed in the younger one's protective embrace and let his lover conquer the soft cavern behind his lips, surrendering to his beloved Teuton and becoming pliant in his arms.

The day had taken its toll, pushed him far beyond his limits, and he needed to let go and forget everything at least for a little while to keep his sanity and regain new strength for the next day. He could feel Erik's manhood pulsing gently against his walls, and his tongue was demanding and tender at the same time, caressing each spot in his mouth with love and ardor.

“You're safe, love, just let me take care of you, my wonderful Roman,” Erik whispered when he drew back for air, “just let go, I'm here and I won't go anywhere. I hold you, love.”

Marcus smiled and closed his eyes and then, Erik started to move.

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------

 

Erik heard the held back tears and emotions in Marcus' rough and strangled voice, and he felt his throat tighten and his chest swell with all the love he felt for the astonishing man lying shivering and trembling in his arms. His beautiful and normally so strong Roman needed him more than ever tonight, needed him to give him what he couldn't say out loud without breaking down and falling apart, and Erik would give him what he needed without any question.

He might have preferred to make love the tender way, but if Marcus needed him to take him harder to let go and release the unbearable tension he must feel, to break the invisible chains wrapped around his chest and his throat that threatened to choke him, then Erik would be there to make that happen and help him with that.

He covered his lover with his body, enwrapped him with his arms and his own warm frame, forming a protective shield around the legatus where Marcus would be safe and hidden from the rest of the world. The young Teuton kissed him, ardently, and when he felt the older man relaxing and surrendering to him, he whispered a tender promise in his ears and started to move, slow and gentle at first to give the other man time to adjust after his first rather forceful intrusion. When he couldn't feel any resistance anymore, he picked up the pace until he was driving into Marcus' wonderful and oh so tight heat with wanton abandon.

He needed this just as much as Marcus needed it, and the Roman's moans and gasps muffled by his arms proved to Erik that his wonderful mate loved to be taken hard by him, as roughly and possessively as Erik would never have dared to only dream of.

“You're mine, Marcus, only mine!” the young Teuton growled, taking his ear between his teeth to gently pull at it. Marcus gasped out and tensed up, but Erik knew that the sound had been a sound of pleasure and not a sound of pain.

Marcus could probably come just from him taking him from behind and his cock rubbing against the mattress, and he most likely didn't care about soaking the sheets with his ecstasy, either. But Erik craved to feel his hard and heavy, gorgeous cock in his hand and he snaked his hand between the mattress and Marcus' sweaty body, enclosing the thick and hard shaft with his from the oil still slick fingers. He lifted his torso up to a crouched position, trapping Marcus' spread thighs between his own bent legs and shifting his torso until his weight rested on his left forearm, his new position granting him control over his own and Marcus' movements without crushing him with his weight.

“By Jupiter, yes, just like that, give me more!” the blond Roman moaned when the new angle led to more powerful thrusts, clenching his walls around Erik's achingly hard dick. “Deeper, Erik, as deep as you can, ooohh, yes do that again!”

Marcus had never given up control like that before, had never told Erik how much he craved to be taken hard and fast by another man – by him, and Erik's mind was clouded with lust and desire, his only striving to make both of them come hard. His fingers stroked up and down on Marcus' member, milking more wetness from the slit, and he used it as lube and brushed with his thumb over the engorged head of the Roman's arousal until Marcus cried out and started to tremble. Erik could feel by the thickening of his cock and the cramping of his passage how close Marcus was to his orgasm, and he moved his hand faster and rammed himself into him again and again, his breathless voice commanding the Roman's total surrender. “Come for me, Roman, come hard for me – now!”

And Marcus did.

The impressive and normally so controlled Roman military commander cried out into the pillow as his whole body went rigid underneath his Teuton prince, shaking with the hot spurts of ecstasy he spilled all over Erik's fingers. Erik stroked and fucked him through his height in a relentless pummeling, his senses focused on his exhausted lover until he was sure that Marcus had found complete satisfaction. Then, he let go of his iron self-control and allowed his own climax to take over control, filling the man who held the key to his heart with his seed until there was no doubt left that Marcus belonged to him and he belonged to Marcus only.

Erik didn't know how long it went on like this, and he relaxed gratefully when the intense waves of pleasure subsided to the warm afterglow of their shared passion.

“I love you, Marcus.” Erik bent down to kiss his exhausted lover, and Marcus blinked his eyes open and smiled at him. “I love you, too, Erik. More than life itself. Thank you. I really needed this.”

Erik smiled back, stroking his arm with his left hand. “You don't have to thank me. I will always be there for you whenever you'll need me.” He gently pulled out of him and drew his hand back. “Can you lie on your back, love? You don't need to do anything, only turn around. Just go to sleep, I will take care of you.”

Marcus sighed at the loss of Erik's warm body pressed close against his own, but he obeyed, rolling onto his back with closed eyes and a small, blissful smile curling around his from their kisses swollen lips.

Erik took the damp linen he had used to wash his face earlier from the small shelf at the wall beside the bed to clean both of them up, and when he was done with his task, he pulled the soft furs over their bodies and watched Marcus drift away from him as the slumber of satisfaction and exhaustion finally claimed the Roman legatus.

When he was sure that Marcus was sound asleep, he kissed his forehead with greatest tenderness and whispered into the fragrant air of their dark and silent bedroom: "Sleep well, my wonderful Marcus, I will be there when you wake up again. I will always be there and love you, now and forever.”


	42. Lars' Decision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcus and Erik shared another passionate night, but reality is catching up with them again, and Marcus has to decide whether to leave Severus behind and leave the Chatti to rescue Lioba or to wait until he has recovered enough to come with them...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am surprised myself that I found myself capable of updating this story again, and I am not sure about the outcome. This chapter is nothing more than a filler chapter I guess, and I don't think that it will get much love and feedback, but I didn't want to abandon my beloved Marcus Retus and his defiant Teuton prince Erik, even though my stories settled in the ancient Roman world haven't gotten that much support ever since I finshed 'The Slave'. I hope that this chapter will be at least readable, it might take some time until the next update anyway.
> 
> I added another character to this story: the goalkeeper of Schalke Ralf Fährmann is Lars' warrior Radolf in this story.

Marcus was still exhausted and every single bone in his tired body ached when he woke up with the first rays of the early daylight the next morning, but he knew that he had to get up and try to bring back some order in the chaos their mission had become after the attack on their lives the previous day.

The young Roman legatus lay there for a moment, enjoying how Erik's lithe frame snuggled close against his own and listening to his quiet and calm breathing. His beautiful Teuton prince was still sound asleep, and Marcus already regretted it that he would have to wake him up soon enough. Erik deserved to get the rest he needed so badly after everything that had happened, but his sister Lioba needed them to rescue her, and the more time past, the smaller were the chances that they would find her.

Marcus stifled a sigh and let his talk with Hakon play before his mind's eye again, every word still sharp and clear in his memory. The two Romans the young Nemeter had talked about had surely come from Augusta Treverorum or must at least have some connections to this city, and if they were lucky, then Lioba would still be there, sold to a Roman citizen living in this city. The worst scenario possible was that Lioba had been sold to a slave trader who brought her to Rome or another part of the huge Roman Empire, fair-skinned slaves with pale hair-colors were precious and brought a lot of money if sold to rich Romans. This was probably the reason for all of the things that had happened over the past weeks, and Marcus was sure that he had stumbled over a secretly acting band of slave traders by accident.

Well, this band would regret that they had made the mistake of kidnapping the sister of the man he loved with all his heart, and he wouldn't rest until he had found her and seen to those villains never kidnapping and hurting any human being again.

Erik stirred in his arms and slowly blinked his eyes open, and Marcus smiled tenderly at him, his deep love for his defiant Teuton making his throat clench. “Good morning, sleepy head. Time to get up,” he teased his sleepy lover gently, and Erik tried to scowl at him but faded miserably because of the heartfelt yawn wrecking him.

“Uhm, good morning, Marcus. It's still early as I can see, so stop teasing me!” Erik groused without much emphasis, and the Roman legatus chuckled and stole a kiss from his pouting lips.

“I know, my defiant Teuton prince. But we have to get up nevertheless, I need to talk to Lars and to see how Severus is doing. As much as I would like to stay here for longer, but we have to hurry and get to Augusta Treverorum as quickly as possible. We will have to leave Severus under his brother's care and pick him up on our way back from Augusta Treverorum, he is not in the state to leave his sickbed and go anywhere in the near future.”

Erik nodded. “You're right. Severus will hopefully be safe here, I don't think that Lars will allow any further harm coming to his long missed brother. As much as I would love to cuddle with you for a while longer, but you've been right with what you said, so let's get up and see how Severus is doing.”

Before Marcus knew what was happening to him, the younger man jumped out of the bed and pulled at his arm. Marcus stumbled after him with a growl, but Erik only laughed, taking the cloth lying beside the bowl filled with water to gently wipe the sleep out of Marcus' bloodshot eyes.

“I love you, Marcus,” he said with tenderness and sincerity coloring his voice when he removed the damp cloth and Marcus could see him again, and the blond Roman took him in his arms and kissed him. “I love you too, my beautiful Teuton, more than anything.”

 

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Severus was awake when they visited him after having dressed properly again. The blond centurion lay on his uninjured side supported by some cushions, and he smiled weakly when he looked up at his superior and friend.

Marcus crouched down before his bed, feeling utter relief about Severus' improved state. Rufus had fallen asleep sitting upright beside his bed, and Marcus didn't want to disturb his sleep, but his personal slave woke up when he felt his master's presence. Rufus' sleep had always been light, and his sixth sense reacted to Marcus' quiet murmur when he greeted his injured centurion.

“Severus! I'm glad to see you awake and much better than yesterday. How are you feeling?” Marcus watched Erik taking a mug with water to offer it to the red-haired Celt who took it with a grateful smile and a hoarsely muttered “thank you, Erik!”

“I'm feeling better, Marcus, thank you. My shoulder is still hurting, but I'm feeling as cold and dizzy as I've been feeling yesterday. It's as if Lars was giving me some of his strength somehow, even though I know that this thought is stupid of course.”

Marcus shook his head. “It's not stupid at all, Severus. The bond between twins is strong, especially between identical twins. I'm glad to hear that, and I am pleased to see your gaze focused and clear, so your fever can't be too high.”

Severus' eyes traveled to Rufus who had emptied the mug in the meantime. “It was much higher, but Rufus didn't rest last night, he cooled my forehead and my legs for hours and gave me a disgusting brew that tasted awfully but really helped. Not that I will forgive him any time soon for torturing a poor and injured man like that,” he said, and his gaze was tender and full of gratitude and deep feelings as he looked at the older man - despite his complaint about the awful brew.

Erik snickered rather gleefully. “Urgh, I think I know the brew you're talking about, Severus. My mother gave me the same treatment when I had a bad fever when I was a young boy. It tasted really bad, but it helped.”

Rufus looked back and forth between his patient and Marcus' Teuton, shaking his head with a sigh. “And here I thought that you were a grown up man and tough centurion, Severus, enduring any torture with dignity and without whining,” he said, but he couldn't really hide his joy about Severus teasing which was a clear sign that the blond centurion indeed felt much better and would most likely recover fully from his horrible injury.

“My brother has always been like this,” a voice coming from the door remarked dryly, “ he was always complaining about everything when he was sick and really hard to bear then.”

“Lars! That's not fair and also not true, and you know that!” Severus almost shouted, gazing reproachfully at his twin brother standing on the threshold. He frowned when he saw four pairs of eyes staring at him in disbelief, and his confusion showed on his face when he asked uncertainly.

“Why are you staring at me like this as if you had never seen me before, Marcus?” he asked, and Marcus reached out and took his hand to squeeze it, his voice raw with emotion when he spoke up, apparently still shaken by what had just happened.

“Because you have talked in your mother tongue, Sven. You have talked in the language of your Teuton ancestors for the first time since your mother left you.”

 

\------------------------------------------

 

They had settled down in Gebhard's taproom for a hearty breakfast after their visit, and Erik could see that Marcus was still under the impression of what had happened only half an hour ago, when his centurion had used his mother tongue for the first time in his life since his separation from his brother, and this without even realizing it.

It was a huge step forward, and Severus had hardly been able to believe himself what he had done, failing when he made another attempt to talk in his mother tongue. He had been desperate, but Rufus had calmed him down and assured him that he was certain that his ability would come back sooner or later, now that he had used his second language successfully, and Severus had drunk his awful brew without complaining and closed his eyes to take a nap, Rufus' gentle hand stroking his hair lulling him into sleep.

Erik remembered how Lars had balled his fists, wanting to be the one calming his brother, but he had accepted that the red-haired Celt was the better one to do that at the moment, and he had promised to join them in Gebhard's inn later again after seeing to his two captives.

Malte, Jonas, Patricius and Julius were already waiting for them while Septimus and Quirinius were seeing to their horses. They had already eaten, and Erik gratefully took his spoon to try the warm porridge that smelled and tasted deliciously.

“How is Severus?” was Jonas' first question, and Erik smiled at his best friend, swallowing down the rather huge bite he had taken. “Much better, Jonas. He was already in the mood to tease Rufus about the awful brew he made him drink to get his fever down,” he said after a quick sidelong glance to Marcus. He didn't mention that Severus had spoken in Teuton though, because he didn't want the blond centurion having to answer questions he didn't have any answers to at the moment, and he could see the grateful glance Marcus shot at him.

Jonas nodded slowly. “Yes, it is disgusting, but it help against any kind of fever,” he said, obviously lost in some childhood memories when his mother had made him drink bitter medicine as well.

Patricius wrapped one protective arm around his shoulder, and Erik bit back a grin when he saw Jonas unconsciously leaning in. “Medicine has to be bitter to truly help,” he consoled his defiant Teuton, and Jonas peered up at him from under his eyelashes.

“Yes, probably. But this doesn't mean that it is less disgusting because of that.” Jonas looked back at Erik and Marcus sitting opposite him. Marcus focused on his porridge and Erik could feel the tension radiating from his body. He wished that he could help the Roman he loved so much, taking the burden heavily pressing down on Marcus' shoulders to ease the weight he had to carry all day long, but there was nothing he could really do except for being there for him and listening to him when Marcus needed someone to talk to.

“Severus won't be in the state to come with us for the next days, that's for sure. What will you do now, Marcus? Stay here until he's better again, or leave Severus under Lars' care?”

“We can't stay here for much longer, Jonas. The chances that we will find Lioba are getting smaller with every day that passes, and you know that. We won't have any other choice than to leave Severus here with his brother. I haven't talked to Rufus so far, but I don't think that he will want to leave Severus alone, and I won't force him to come with us either, because Severus needs him more than we do at the moment. It's only that we'll lose two good men this way, and our unknown attackers might already think about another way of keeping us from going to Augusta Treverorum.”

Malte was the one answering to that. “You're probably right with that, Marcus. We have to be even more careful than we've been beforehand. But this won't keep us from searching for Lioba,” he stated with grim determination, and Erik searched for Marcus' hand under the table when he said:

“No, of course not, Malte. But I can't help but feel responsible for Severus' injury and for having put all of you into danger. It is my sister and I was the one attacking Marcus because I thought him to be the bad guy here. I really wished that I hadn't done this stupid mistake...” His voice trailed off, and he looked down into his bowl, the huge lump in his throat choking him.

Marcus took his hand to press a brief kiss onto his knuckles. “None of this is your fault, Erik. You didn't force anyone to search for your sister, your friends and my men here in this room decided to come with us freely and we all knew about the danger beforehand. The only ones to blame here are the kidnappers of your sister, and I will do everything I can do to find them and make sure that they won't kidnap and kill innocent young men and women any longer, selling them into slavery and leaving them to face a destiny worse than death. It is understandable that you thought that I was responsible for what happened to your sister, and I would never let you down and let you search for her all by yourself.”

Erik' smile was a little bit teary when he looked at his beloved Roman. “Thank you, Marcus. But it will be so much harder for us without Severus and Rufus, and I am torn between wanting to stay here until Severus has recovered and come with us and wanting to leave as quickly as possible to search for Lioba. How are we supposed to stand another attack being only a small group of fighters?”

“Don't make the mistake of underestimating our small group, Erik,” Julius spoke up, exchanging a glance with Malte sitting at his right side. “Septimus and Quirinius are experienced soldiers, and Malte and Jonas already proved that they are skilled and brave warriors. We will be fine, don't worry about that.”

Erik sighed but relaxed, picking up his spoon again. They ate in silence for a while, each of them lost in their thoughts, and Erik flinched when the door opened and the blond chief of the Chatti entered the taproom together with Gebhard and Benno. Erik was still struck whenever he gazed at Lars and saw the similarity with Severus, the features that were so strange and yet so familiar to him.

The three Chatti looked rather grim though, and Erik lifted his head up in defiance to meet any accusations they might throw at Marcus and his friends. But Lars only sat down at Marcus other side, regarding him silently for a moment.

“I talked to my men, Marcus Retus. They agreed with me that your mission and your search for a young Teuton woman who was kidnapped and torn away from her family concerns our tribe as well, because these men will surely come back and try to kidnap other Teutons, and most likely some of our own people as well. It hasn't happened so far, but this doesn't mean anything. Apart from that, Lioba's father was the one allowing us to settle down in his territory, and we owe him to at least try to bring his daughter back to him. Therefore, we decided that we will join you in your search and help you finding these kidnappers and Erik's sister of course. You will need all the help you can get, especially after having to leave Severus and Rufus behind. Rufus won't leave Severus, and my brother is not in the state to ride and fight properly for the next few months. The wound is deep and would break open again if he tried to do so.”

“You will really send some of your men with us when we're leaving?” Marcus asked, his voice controlled and calm, but Erik could see how much Lars' offer meant to him, he had learned to read Marcus' face and the tiny hints he gave away rather quickly since they had come closer.

“As I said, this is the least we can do. Severus will be safe here, we will protect him with our own lives, don't you doubt that. He is my twin brother, and I can't even begin to express my gratitude that you brought him here and reunited us, Marcus. The same goes for your friend Rufus of course. He is our most welcomed guest, and I will not let any of my people treat him like a stranger or a slave.”

“Thank you, Lars, your words mean a lot to me, especially regarding what you said about Rufus,” Marcus said, addressing Severus' twin with his Teuton name instead of the Roman name he had once worn. “We would be most grateful for your support and help on our rescue mission.”

Erik was grateful for Lars' willingness to help them as well, and Lars' words calmed his bad conscience a little bit.

“It is fixed then. I would suggest to stay one more day in our village, you and your men need some rest and you also need to know that my brother's state is improving before you can focus on our mission again,” the chief of the Chatti suggested, and Erik could only agree to that, especially to the getting-some-rest-part. They were all exhausted and not in the state to defend themselves properly at the moment, as much as he longed to find his beloved sister. But getting injured or trapped wouldn't help her, and Erik could still sense the exhaustion coming off in waves from the young Roman legatus. Marcus needed to sleep and to spend another day at Severus' side before he could become the strong and confident leader of their small group again, and the brunet Mattiacer could see that his friends felt the same way, looking relieved when Marcus nodded.

“We'll accept your offer, Lars,” the blond Roman thanked their host with a smile. “We could all do with one more day to recover from the attack. I would also like to talk to Hakon again and maybe his brother if he is in the state to answer some questions.”

Lars pursed his lips. “Anselm is still not out of the woods, but I'm positive that he will survive. I offered his brother Hakon a new home here among my people for both of them, he and his brother Anselm are still more children than grown up men, and they are not the bad guys here. He accepted my offer, and even though they are both still under supervision and guarded for some more days, but I truly doubt that Hakon or Anselm will try to betray us. They are homeless, they have no other place to go, and they were forced to attack you and not in control of their own actions. You can speak to Hakon at any time you want to, my friend, but be careful with his brother Anselm, please, he is still in a pretty bad shape.”

Marcus nodded. “I will be careful, you have my word on that, Lars. But tell me, who will be the men accompanying us when we're leaving your village tomorrow?”

The tall and handsome Chat with the blond hair pulled his mouth into a smile that made the skin around his eyes crinkle. “I mused about that for some time, and I finally made a decision, Legatus Marcus Retus. The one man coming with you will be one of my best warriors, he is trustworthy and an experienced scout who will show you the quickest and safest route to Augusta Treverorum. His name is Radolf, and he volunteered to join your mission without me having to ask him.”

Erik felt a wave of relief washing over him, and he looked back and forth between Lars, Benno and Gebhard, curious about the second man of Lars' tribe who would accompany them. He could see that Marcus and his friends were curious as well, and he held his breath when Lars spoke up again, his jaw dropping when he listened to the Chat's next words.

“The other man coming with you will be me, Marcus. I will come with you and I will do so as a Roman centurion. I will help you finding Lioba, and I will do that in the disguise of a Roman, pretending that I am my brother and one of your men, the proud Roman centurion Severus Benignus.”


	43. A Nice Day Off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lars has told Marcus that he will come with them and play the role of his brother. But Marcus and Erik are grateful for having one more day to recover, and Patricius, Jonas, Julius and Malte are enjoying their unexpected day off as well...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My dearest GoForGoals, I promised you a new chapter and here it is. I'm in the mood for my Roman universe lately, and Marcus and his men really deserve to have some quality time before they have to leave Lars' village again. :-)
> 
> My dear readers, the last chapters have gotten awfully little feedback. It's really hard to stay motivated and write such a complex WIP without your feedback. If this chapter will get as few kudos and comments as the last ones, than I will either delete this story or write only one or two more chapters and finish it without Marcus and Erik rescuing Lioba, because I really can't and also don't want to write for silent readers only. <33

Lars' announcement was met with stunned silence, even Marcus found himself staring in surprise at the tall chief of the Chatti for a moment.

“You want to come with us yourself?” he made sure, careful not to let his feelings show in his voice and his face. Lars directed his calm gaze at him. “It's the logical choice, Marcus. Your attackers know that they have injured one of your men, but they most likely don't know how severe his injury is and who of your men they have shot. If I had to guess, then I would say that they have made their homework and checked your small group. They might not know who Malte and Jonas are - or Septimus and Quirinius as they are ordinary legionaries - but they will definitely recognize you, Erik, Patricius, Julius - and my brother of course in case they'll try to attack your group for a second time, Marcus. And Rufus as your personal slave. Me playing Severus' role for the rest of your mission will confuse them if they've seen who they've shot.”

“Hmm, you're probably right with your guess. Whoever our attackers were – and their principals – they will most likely think that Rufus has been the one they have injured if they'll try to approach us again. As much as it hurts me to say that, but it might be a good thing. Most people are trapped in their prejudices and don't think that slaves can be real good fighters, so they will be disappointed that they haven't shot me or one of my officers. But what about your settlement and your people, Lars? I don't think that they will be happy about you helping a group of Romans they neither know nor feel indebted to.”

The tall blond smiled. “Gebhard knows how to deal with the few who might not agree to my decision, don't worry. And Benno knows what to do as well, he is my head guard for a rather long time, none of my people will rebel against his orders, they know what will happen if they so much as only think of it. And in the unlikely case that the heads of the slave trader ring will send a spy to my people, then my brother can slip into my role for the time being. Benno will help him.”

“Do you really think that this will work? Severus has just began to remember your mother tongue, Lars. And he doesn't know anything about your way of life. Not to mention his injury.”

“I don't think that anybody knows about me and Sven being identical twins, Marcus. I could see how surprised your own men have been about this revelation. Benno could explain Sven's state with a bad fever he is just recovering from. My brother would only need to show himself from the distance for a few minutes. I don't think that they will send someone to spy on us anyway, you are the bigger threat, my people will be safe as soon as we have left our village tomorrow. I would actually like to bring more men with me, but the attackers certainly noticed your numbers, it would arouse attention if we were more men all of a sudden.”

Marcus resisted the urge to rub his temples. “You're right with that,” he agreed with a sigh. “I'd like to talk to Hakon and Anselm before we'll leave though.”

“Of course, Marcus. But you should really try to get some more rest, you can talk to them in a couple of hours. Maybe Anselm's state will be more stable then anyway.”

Marcus nodded, staring down at his bowl without seeing anything. He had taken only few bites from his porridge so far, and he knew that he needed to eat more, but he wasn't really hungry, his worries pressing down heavily on his shoulders.

“I understand that you don't feel hungry at the moment, but you'll need all of your strength, Marcus.” Lars regarded him friendlily, and the young legatus hesitantly took the spoon. He was grateful for Erik's warm and unobtrusive presence beside him, and the porridge was actually tasty and warmed him from the inside when he took a few cautious bites.

Patricius cleared his throat, drawing Lars' attention to him this way. “We'd like to refill our supplies if possible, Lars. And we could do with a tub or a creek where we can clean our clothes and perhaps ourselves,” he asked the chief of the Chatti, and the tall blond nodded and rose to his feet. If he knew that Patricius' request was meant to grant Marcus and Erik some privacy, then he didn't let it show, only smiling at the young centurion.

“Of course, Patricius. I would have seen to your supplies being refilled anyway, and I will show you the creek at the other side of our village. I'll tell my people to not disturb you if you wish to stay alone there.”

Julius exchanged a quick glance with Patricius. “That would be kind, Lars, thank you. It's not that we want to keep secrets from you, just...”

Lars raised his hand. “I didn't think so, please don't worry, Julius. It's understandable that you need some time on your own after all that has happened.” He turned around to smile at Marcus and Erik. “I'll stay with my brother here in Gebhard's inn and at Benno's place until we'll leave. I have to shave and cut my hair to play the role of a Roman centurion, do you think that Rufus would lend me a hand with that? I'm sure that he would be the best for helping me with the haircut.”

Marcus smiled. It was a bit melancholy, but also a relieved and honest smile. “Of course, Lars. Rufus is the one cutting my hair as well, and he has cut Severus' hair only a few weeks ago. It will be good for him to have something that will keep him busy and distract him from his worries for a while. Severus is very dear to him.”

“That was not to overlook, Marcus. My brother values Rufus highly as well. We have a deal then. Please consider my house your home during your stay here, Marcus Retus. And please try to get some more sleep. You're our leader on this mission, and we all need you well rested and focused.”

“Please listen to him, Marcus. You can hardly keep your eyes open and you've lost weight over the last days.” Erik said, squeezing his fingers and smiling tenderly at him.

Even Malte and Jonas now came to Lars' help, gazing strictly at him. “Lars is right, Marcus. No one will think any less of you if you'll be reasonable and go back to bed for the rest of the day or at least for some more hours. And the same goes for Erik. I do believe that he is the one of our group except for you possible attackers will try to kill or capture at first, and we would feel much better knowing that both of you have caught enough sleep before going on with our rescue mission,” Malte said, his voice leaving no doubts that he was serious about that. “We will see to your clothes if you want us to clean them together with ours.”

Erik pressed Marcus down when he wanted to rise to his feet, getting up from the bench himself. “Please stay where you are Marcus. I'll go with them. I expect this bowl to be empty when I come back to you.”

The other men chuckled at that, and Marcus felt his shoulders relax. He grinned up at his defiant Teuton prince, shaking his head with a defeated sigh. “I guess that I won't like the consequences if there is still porridge left in the bowl after your return.”

“You bet you won't like them,” Erik almost growled, scowling at him with his hands on his hips until Marcus filled his spoon with a generous portion to lift it to his mouth. “I know when I have to give in, don't worry,” he said, his gaze fixed on Erik's handsome features as he pointedly chewed on his large bite.

His beautiful Teuton prince watched him for a few more seconds before his expression softened again. “I'll be back right away again, Marcus, I would really be grateful for a few more hours of undisturbed sleep. Lars and Rufus will let us know if Severus' state changes considerably.”

The tall Chat confirmed his assumption with a brief nod. “I will, but I don't think that his fever will get worse. We only need to make sure that he'll drink enough to make up for the blood loss. The vibes I'm getting from him have become stronger, Sven is on his way to a full recovery, I'm sure of that.”

“Thank you, Lars, knowing this will help me to rest.” Marcus looked up at his beloved Teuton, warmth spreading out into each part of his body from where his heart was beating when he saw the deep love in Erik's eyes.

“I'll be waiting for you, Erik. And the bowl will be empty when you come back to me, I promise you.”

 

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“My head is still spinning from all of this, I'm still trying to understand what has happened since yesterday,” Malte mused half an hour later when he, Jonas, Patricius and Julius reached the small but rather deep creek that murmured its way cheerfully through the thick green grass at the other side of the village.

They had seen to the horses before making their way to the creek, and they had found Septimus and Quirinus sitting comfortably on two big straw bales next to the paddock, playing dices with two of the Chatti. The legionaries had assured them that they had everything they needed, pointing at the two mugs filled with fresh cervisia, and Malte had to admit that he had been a little bit surprised when Julius had offered them to see to their laundry together with his own.

Julius had returned his astonished gaze with a raised eyebrow before turning around to stalk away with his chin held up high, clearly hurt and angry, and Malte had followed him with a bad conscience. The attack, Severus' injury and the events after their arrival in the settlement had kept Julius and him from talking about the 'thing' that was going on between them so far – whatever it was that made Malte's heart beat faster in Julius' presence, perhaps only attraction - but perhaps something much deeper - the tall Mattiacer couldn't tell for sure.

What he did know was that they had to talk about it as soon as possible, because Julius was friendly and teased him when others were around, but he was more and more careful to keep his distance from him and he was quiet and reserved when they were alone even for a rather short amount of time. Julius even avoided to meet his eyes as best as he could, and Malte's astonished reaction to his willingness to do the laundry for his underlings had apparently hurt him, because he was still ignoring Malte when he put the bag with the laundry down onto the grass.

“You're not the only one here,” Patricius now answered to his statement, his eyes quickly scanning the area before he started to peel himself out of his armor with practiced ease and natural elegance. Malte smiled when he saw Jonas staring at the handsome centurion, a slight blush coloring his cheeks when he followed the blond Roman's every move.

Patricius of course noticed Jonas' rapturous staring as well, winking at him with his right eye. “Do you like what you see, Teuton?” he teased the shortest one of their group, chuckling tenderly when Jonas' blush increased to a deep red.

“Nothing really impressive, and nothing I haven't seen before,” Jonas snapped sheepishly, turning his head away, and Patricius shook his head and let out a disappointed sigh as he walked over to Jonas to touch his stiff shoulder. “I'm sorry, Jonas. I promised you friendship, and your friend I am - even if I can't resist teasing you now and then.”

Jonas relaxed, offering him a smile as a truce. “I know, Patricius, I'm sorry. It's just that so much has happened, and I feel watched the entire time. I know what Lars has said, and I believe him when he says that he considers us his allies and welcomed guests, but this doesn't necessarily mean that his people feel the same way about us, even more since he wants to come with us. The thought of having to leave Severus and Rufus behind, alone with these people makes me feel uncomfortable.”

“I know what you mean, I'm worrying about the same.” Julius came over to them, shooting Malte a furtive glance. He had taken off his own armor in the meantime, but he didn't make any attempt to undress his clothes.

Malte sat down to unlace his boots. “We'll have no other choice than to trust Lars and hope that Gebhard and Benno will make sure that Severus and Rufus will be fine when we're away,” he said, “Severus is halfway Chat himself after all. Such bonds and origins mean a lot to us Mattiacers, and I guess that it's the same for the Chatti. Our tribes are closely related, and family bonds are respected and very important to us.”

Jonas finally began to undress, clearly eager to wash away the dust and dirt from their journey. None of them had thought of getting clean the previous day, all of them too tired and too occupied with processing what had happened to think of anything else than worrying about Severus and getting some rest afterwards.

“You're right as always, Malte,” he thanked his friend. “I should stop fretting over things I can't change anyway. We can't wait until Severus has recovered enough to come with us, and Lars coming with us will hopefully keep his people from merely thinking of treating Severus and Rufus unkindly. Are you afraid of a little bit of cold water all of a sudden, Roman? Where is your braveness? I won't come close to you if you don't bathe!” he added when Patricius didn't follow his example, just stood there at the edge of the creek with his arms folded across his chest, the simple tunic accentuating his well-shaped body in a very appealing way.

This challenge made the blond centurion raise a mocking eyebrow at his defiant companion, and he shrugged out of his tunic hastily. “This coming from the one having been so eager to snuggle close to me last night, complaining about the cold!” he remarked dryly, kicking off his sandals and wading into the creek without any sign of hesitation. Jonas squeaked and tried to duck away under his arm, but Patricius grabbed him with a triumphant snarl to pull him down into the clear water together with him.

Malte watched the handsome centurion and his friend fool around for a while, and his heart missed a beat when Julius eventually sat down beside him to watch Jonas and Patricius try to win the upper hand in their playful fight.

“It's good to have both of you here with us, Malte,” Julius said after a short moment of tensed silence.

“I'm glad to hear that, Roman, but how do you exactly mean it?” Malte averted his eyes from his friend to look at the dark-haired optio. Julius shrugged, chewing on a long grass stalk.

“Jonas' constant mistrust might be annoying now and then, but it reminds us to stay careful and alert. You on the other hand seem to have a good sixth sense when it comes to who is trustworthy and who is not, and I'm willing to trust your instincts. Not to mention that both of you are damn good fighters, Malte.” Julius' expression was serious, and hearing him say his name aroused a soft tingling in Malte's belly.

“Thank you, Julius. I'm glad that Patricius and you are there to cover our backs too,” he murmured, wishing that they were alone with each other. Lars had kept his promise to tell his people to give them their privacy, but Malte could still feel prying eyes on their backs.

“You know that I don't do that just because my commander has ordered me to cover your back, don't you, Malte?” Julius asked, his next words almost inaudible, but still loud enough for Malte to hear them. “You really mean a lot to me.”

The young Mattiacer swallowed, his throat suddenly dry with desire. “And you're not as annoying as I'd first thought you to be, Roman,” he offered in return, his mischievous and almost tender grin taking the edge off of his dry remark.

Julius blushed and scowled at him, but his cheeks turned pink in the sunlight. “Don't expect me to take that as a compliment, Teuton,” he growled, embarrassedly, and Malte chuckled and reached out to grab his head and pull him close for a brief peck on his lips.

“You're sexy when you're embarrassed, Julius,” he whispered against his lips, and the incredulous look and the strangled moan he got as a reward for his confession made him kiss the young optio right away again. It was only a brief kiss, their closed lips grazing each other, but it was enough to send a rush of pure want and desire through his body, a foretaste of what would happen when they would finally have a few hours to themselves.

“You're such a tease,” Julius groaned, the visible bulge tenting his tunic proving to Malte that he wasn't the only one wishing that they were alone. The dark-haired optio pulled away from him with a reproachful look when he heard Jonas and Patricius snicker in their direction, jumping to his feet and running into the creek without bothering to undress his tunic.

Malte followed him a little bit slower to cool himself down again, and it didn't take long until the four friends were dripping wet from head to toe, their shouts and laughter echoing in the warm air of the sunny spring day.

Tomorrow, they would have to leave their hosts and become the trained soldiers they actually were again, but today they could be just four young men having fun for a while, and this was all Malte needed to have in this moment to feel almost happy and content.

 

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The laundry was hanging over the thick branches and twigs of several brushes to dry in the sunlight, and Jonas stretched out on the soft grass beside the tall centurion with a contented sigh. Patricius didn't open his eyes, but he smiled when Jonas shifted closer to him, gently pulling him near to his warm body, Jonas' head resting comfortably on the strong shoulder of the blond Roman.

Malte and Julius lay several meters away from them, their entangled bodies mostly hidden by one of the dark-green bushes, and Jonas didn't need to strain his imagination to know what the soft noises making their way to his ears indicated. He felt a little bit uncomfortable witnessing Malte kissing the younger Roman like this because it made him feel bad about not doing the same with Patricius.

The older one must have noticed the sudden tension under his fingers where he was softly stroking Jonas' bare arm, because he opened one of his beautiful eyes to peer at Jonas from the side.

“Tell me something about you, Jonas,” he said, and the young Mattiacer blinked in surprise. “What do you want to know?” he gave back mistrustfully, and Patricius turned on his side until he was facing the smaller man, continuing to stroke his arm.

“What you are willing to share with me. What your favorite game has been when you were a young boy, which food you like best, your favorite color - anything that helps me to get to know and understand you better.” Patricius' voice was quiet and gentle, and his blue eyes seemed to look straight into Jonas' soul. The rather loud moan coming from Julius as Malte sucked the air out of his lungs with his kiss made Jonas flinch, and he was actually grateful for Patricius' question.

“My favorite color is green,” he murmured, glad that he could fix his eyes on Patricius' face and didn't need to look at his friend and the other Roman. “Which kind of green?” the blond centurion wanted to know, letting his fingertips trail curious patterns over Jonas' smooth skin. “The green of the fresh grass and the young leaves early in spring or more the darker and rich one of the summer?”

“The darker green,” Jonas croaked out, trying to ignore the shiver running down on his spine at the gentle caresses. “And I could die for the stew my mother cooks when we're having guests, made of wild hog, beans and carrots. Sometimes, she even cooks an apple with the stew.” Jonas unconsciously licked over his lips, blushing when this rather innocent gesture drew Patricius' attention to his mouth.

“That sounds delicious, Jonas.” Patricius' eyes had darkened with desire, but he didn't try to kiss Jonas, only stroked his stubbly cheek with a tender thumb. They were naked except for their loincloths, and Jonas was suddenly very aware of the visible proof of the Roman's longing for him and the heat radiating from his naked chest.

“What's your favorite dish?” he asked to distract the older one from his own forceful and visible reaction to their closeness and Patricius' intense gaze.

“Roasted chicken,” Patricius sighed wistfully. “My mother always made a thick dark-brown sauce with onions and served the chicken with this special sauce and fresh bread. It's been a long time since I've last visited my parents and enjoyed my mother's cooking skills.”

Jonas felt his throat tighten when he realized how far away the centurion fascinating him so much was from his home. It must be hard for the handsome Roman to be so many miles away from his beloved Rome, serving his emperor in the cold and hostile north without ever knowing whether or not he would ever see his family and his home again.

“I'm sorry,” he said hoarsely, feeling utterly grateful that his family lived so close by.

“For what, Jonas?” Patricius regarded him attentively, his fingers wandering from his arm to his back.

“For acting like a small child ever since we've left Mogontiacum. I've snapped at you and accused you of things you haven't done at all, and I'm really sorry for not having wanted to see how hard it must be for you to live so far away from your family and friends and in such a hostile environment.”

“It was my free decision to come here, Jonas. Mogontiacum has become my home, and my men and brothers in arms are my family and my friends now. I miss my parents, that's true, but there is no other place I'd rather be at the moment than right here with you, Jonas.” Patricius smiled at him, and Jonas really wished he would kiss him.

“Is that so?” he inquired, licking over his lips again very slowly, holding Patricius' gaze. “You know that it is,” Patricius whispered, leaning in ever so slightly, his lips almost touching Jonas' mouth.

The centurion's warm breath ghosted over Jonas' cheek, and the young Mattiacer made a soft sound deep in his throat and pulled at his head, time standing still as their lips finally met in a first shy and tentative kiss.


End file.
